


(Deep in their roots) All Flowers Keep the Light

by nagi_schwarz



Series: Prompt Fills 2019 [7]
Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Gen, Hanahaki Disease, Stealth Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-13 17:49:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20586554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: Aya starts a new life in another land, but she keeps working with flowers.





	(Deep in their roots) All Flowers Keep the Light

**Author's Note:**

> Author requested: 
> 
> Tell the story of Aya-chan’s life after she recovers from the coma. What adventures does she have? Please give her as much agency as you can. 
> 
> Imagine that Aya-chan remains ageless after she wakes up from the coma. What becomes of her life?
> 
> Language notes:
> 
> "unni" is like the Japanese "neesan" meaning big sister, what a younger girl calls an older girl  
"noona" is the same thing but what a boy calls and older girl
> 
> "oppa" is like the Japanese "niichan" meaning older brother, what a younger girl calls an older boy (or her boyfriend/husband)  
"hyung" is the same thing but what a boy calls an older boy
> 
> the suffix "-ssi" is sort of like "san", used for someone who isn't very familiar or close or is older

_I. Role Play_

Schuldig stares down at Aya in disbelief.

“I didn’t think telepaths could be surprised,” she says.

He still dresses like a total eyesore, in a tie-dye shirt and a bright yellow bandanna and a pair of olive khakis. “That would be precognitives like Crawford, not me.” Then he shakes himself out, pulls on his familiar irritating smirk. “What do you want, Little Abyssinian?”

Aya knows as little as possible about Ran-niichan’s time in Weiss. Sure, she’s been working at the Koneko No Sumu Ie with Momoe-san, who she knows is a retired Kritiker agent, and Manx and Birman come to check on her once in a while, but they’ve told her little. She knows it’s less for her own protection and more for Ran-niichan’s sanity. She doesn’t ask questions, but she knows enough about Weiss and Kritiker as an organization that she knows Abyssinian is Ran-niichan’s call sign or codename or something.

“I am going to leave Japan,” she says. “And you’re going to help me.”

Schuldig rocks back on his heels, amused. “Why would I do that?”

“Because you owe me.”

“Do you forget that I’m a mastermind telepath and you’re the vulnerable teenage girl I kidnapped?” Schuldig’s teeth gleam in an expression too feral to be called a smile. He’s deliberately channeling Farfarello.

Aya smiles sweetly. “Or we can do a little role-playing. You are a mastermind telepath - who cannot read my mind. I am a teenage girl who was possessed by a demon, and even before then I didn’t age for three years, and you don’t know what I’m capable of.” She still hasn’t aged. People already comment on how young she looks. If she goes somewhere no one knows her, she can start over, in more ways than one.

Schuldig’s expression doesn’t change, but the way it freezes tells Aya what she wants to know.

“What do you want? Money? Fake papers?”

She can get those from Kritiker. 

“Languages,” Aya says. “English. Mandarin. Spanish. French. And...Korean.”

Schuldig’s expression goes blank. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You do. You don’t study languages - you download them into your mind with your telepathy. And you do the same for your teammates. I know you can do it for me.” Aya stresses _ I know _ as pointedly as she can manage. Let Schuldig think she knows more than she does. 

Schuldig takes a deep breath. “English, Mandarin, Spanish, French, and Korean?”

Aya nods.

Schuldig looks hesitant. 

Aya says, “You _ owe _ me.”

So Schuldig nods. He cannot read her mind easily, so implanting languages in her brain will be a bigger task than it was for his teammates, but he also cannot control her mind, so Aya is willing to take the time. She already knows where she wants to go.

_II. Bloom_

Aya isn’t sure if merging with the demon, even temporarily, brought the magic into the world, or if it has always been in the world and now she is able to see it and use it. It’s only fitting, she supposes, that her newfound powers center around flowers. After all she, like her oniichan before her, works in a flower shop.

The Flower Box in Yeonjong is smaller than the Koneko No Sumu Ie, and Aya only has two employees, Jinjoo who runs the shop full time and doesn’t ask how a girl Aya’s age owns it, and a part-timer who attends the only other high school in the area. Deokhui is hardworking and energetic. Her main passion in life is supporting her favorite boy group. She spends all her time outside of working and studying reading about them online, watching videos of their interviews and performances, chatting with other fans about them, and looking at pictures of them. 

Aya, who had mostly listened to Ran-niichan’s rock music, is learning about Korean idols and K-pop. She’s not sixteen anymore - at least not legally - but she never got to finish high school, and she wants to enjoy her adolescence. The uniform and the weight of a backpack feel normal. It’s strange, studying and working on projects without her mother or brother nagging her, without her father giving her a big hug when she does well on tests. She misses them fiercely. She supposes this is what university must be like, studying for herself. The solitude of her little house isn’t as bad as it could be, because she fills the space with flowers and plants. 

The house is behind The Flower Box. Aya bought both from an old woman looking to retire and move closer to her children and grandchildren. Aya has a small nursery behind the shop that conceals the house from view, and neither Jinjoo nor Deokhui knows she lives there. In the nursery she grows some of her own stock, something she learned from Momoe-san. The nursery is private. Most people don’t even know about it, and even if they did, customers aren’t allowed into it, because Aya has several different delicate micro-climates inside of it to facilitate growing some special breeds of flowers.

So Aya is surprised when a girl from Deokhui’s school comes in with a flower pot with withered blooms in it and asks about the nursery. 

Aya is still learning the intricacies of Korean culture, even if she can speak the language like a native speaker. She bows, a little clumsily.

“Welcome!”

The girl - the nametag on her uniform blouse reads Ho Guhui - places the pot on the counter. “This is a nursery, right? You can help me?”

“This is a flower shop,” Aya says, a little helplessly.

Guhui looks distressed. “But you have a nursery, right? You know about growing flowers?”

“I do know about growing flowers,” Aya says, still confused. “What kind of help do you need?”

“How can I fix my flowers?”

The flowers are dead. Guhui darts a hopeful glance at Deokhui, who grins and flashes her a thumbs-up. She must be one of Deokhui’s friends from school.

“Ah - I will take a look, but there’s no guarantee I can help. Their condition may be very - advanced.” Aya picks up the little flower pot. 

“Thank you so much, Unni. My boyfriend gave me those flowers and I want to take good care of them, but I’m not very good with plants.”

Aya remembers only vaguely the last time she had a crush on a boy. She’s never had a boyfriend, and these days she’s not so inclined to go looking for one. “I will see what I can do.” She carries the flower pot into the back and sets it on the worktable, considers it. When she prods one of the blossoms tentatively, a petal rattles free and falls into the very wet soil of the pot.

Too wet. Guhui’s been overwatering her poor plant, likely in a well-meaning effort to keep it alive. Aya leans down and sniffs - and the roots have rotted. This plant, if it’s salvageable at all, will take about a week to recover. What should she charge for such a service? Should she even charge at all? Guhui is one of Deokhui’s friends, and she seems like a sweet girl, and Aya knows a thing or two about keeping flowers as reminders of people she cares about. In a far corner of the nursery, Aya has something like a small ancestral shrine with six flowerpots on it: cattleya orchids, blue gentians, freesia, blood-red roses, and two small bonsai trees for her parents. 

Aya sighs and strokes a finger down one of the delicate, withered leaves on the shriveled stem, and another petal shivers free and falls, dead.

“Maybe,” Aya says to the plant, “you’re just comatose. What should I do to wake you up?”

And before her eyes, the plant does just that. The stench of rotting roots vanishes. The leaves and petals uncurl, blooming with life and color. The stem is no longer shriveled up.

It looks amazing.

It feels - terrifying. Aya has had this sensation before, the rush of power.

But she doesn’t feel like she did when she woke to half-consciousness with a demon in her body. She feels powerful, yes. But not like she’s being swallowed in darkness. In fact, she feels like she is being subsumed all in light for just a moment.

Guhui’s little tea rose plant looks just like new. That should be impossible.

Aya sets it behind the four flowerpots on her memory shrine and tucks it back a bit so it will get enough sunlight to survive but not enough to catch anyone’s eye. Deokhui knows to avoid the shrine on the rare occasions when she comes into the nursery, and she doesn’t ask questions about it. Aya has never asked who Deokhui has lost.

Aya takes a deep breath and returns to the shop, where Deokhui and Guhui have their heads bent close over the counter, looking at something on Deokhui’s phone.

“I can’t make any promises,” Aya says, and they look up.

“But?” Guhui asks.

“But I know what’s wrong with it - you’ve been over-watering it. I’ll do what I can, and if it survives, I’ll send you home with some instructions to prevent future over-watering, all right?”

Guhui’s face lights up, and she bows twice. “Thank you so much, Unni!” She beams at Deokhui. “You’re right. She’s the best.”

Deokhui beams back and flashes her another thumbs-up.

“I’ll let Deokhui know if you can come pick your plant up,” Aya says.

Guhui bows again, waves, and darts out of the shop.

_ III. Treasure _

A week later, Guhui is very grateful about her tea rose being alive and well. She accepts Aya’s handwritten instructions for the care and feeding of her plant, and she promises to follow them well, and she heads home. Deokhui is very pleased with Aya too. 

Jinjoo, who prefers to let Aya and Deokhui handle customers who are their peers, casts Aya a look behind Deokhui’s back. “Is this a new service The Flower Box will be offering? Shall I work out pricing and order a sign? Repairing flowers for lovers?”

Deokhui, who is an entrepreneur in her own right, says, “It could be an important additional revenue stream. People who seek assistance with preserving their flowers will probably purchase additional things from us while they’re here.”

Aya says, “Let me do some more research and see if it’s a service we can reasonably provide. Not all plants can be saved.”

“Well, if Manager wants you to do it.” Deokhui casts Jinjoo a look. 

Jinjoo sips at her coffee, shrugs. “I’m not going to offer a service we can’t actually provide.” She nods at Aya. “Please, do the research.”

“I will, Manager.”

Jinjoo sighs into her coffee. “Please, call me Unni.”

Aya says, “I’m sorry. I’m still getting used to - everything.”

She’s used to school, the rhythm of classes and assignments and cleaning after. She’s used to living on her own now. She’s less used to dealing with people. New country plus new school plus new life is a lot. But the hard work required distracts Aya from thinking about assassins and psychics. 

Only now she has some kind of demonic power. 

Raising flowers from the dead doesn’t seem demonic, though. It seems more - magical. 

Aya experiments with her newfound powers for a week. She is already considered a bit strange at school, being from Japan, living on her own, being quiet and shy, having a part-time job. She’s sure a few rumors about her are floating around the student body, but she hasn’t bothered to find out what they are. Instead she is even more distracted and distant than usual, studying plant anatomy in the library before heading to the flower shop and picking test subjects from the nursery. 

She knows how to turn carnations, chrysanthemums, and white roses other colors, using food coloring in their water. She wants to try turning the petals multiple colors. She knows she risks killing the plants. Two birds. One stone. 

Bringing plants back from the dead is easy. It doesn’t make her tired or hungry. It doesn’t make her age. She doesn’t think it’s destroying her soul. She isn’t losing teeth or hair or weight. She just feels that light, warm feeling, and a plant is back. 

Sometimes, on the way to and from school, she’ll pause in a neighbor’s yard and coax a random plant back to life - a tree branch here, a rose bush there, a little aloe an old farm woman uses to soothe her sunburns. 

Whether a plant is still in soil or has been cut from its stem, Aya can resurrect it. Also, she figures out how to make rainbow roses, carnations, and chrysanthemums without having to spray paint the petals. 

After a week, Aya reports to Jinjoo, and Jinjoo thinks up some reasonable pricing and terms for “plant doctor” services and also for new rainbow flowers. Deokhui makes a cute sign for the shop window. No one besides Ho Guhui seeks out help for an ailing plant, but the sign has only been in the window for a week, and it’s not a very big sign. It takes another week to cultivate some rainbow flowers, but few people are interested in how expensive they are. Jinjoo adjusts the price, and Aya and Deokhui both wear rainbow flowers in their hair to school one day (the flowers helped along by Aya’s magic) and sales pick up a bit. 

Aya is pleased, and she spends time back in the nursery working in privacy so no one can spy on her flower coloring technique - or see her use her magic to help the flowers along, because the process involves cutting and bending their stems in multiple places. 

And then it occurs to Aya - what if her magic isn’t limited to bringing back plants?

The people who’d summoned a demon to possess her had done so because they were seeking immortality. What if the plants she is awakening have become immortal? 

What if she can bring other living things back to life?

One day after school, she finds a bird that has died after crashing into one of the shop windows. She scoops it up gingerly and scurries into the nursery. 

She lays it on one of the back worktables she uses for repotting plants, and she cups her hands over it, concentrates like she does when she’s rescuing a plant. She feels the magic build in her, feels light and warmth tingle through her limbs and center in her palms, but - nothing. The bird doesn’t even twitch.

Aya gives the poor little bird a small burial in her garden. She is relieved. Some things should stay dead.

Her gift, she decides, is indeed magical, and she will treasure it. It will help her continue to build her new life.

_IV. Moonwalk_

“You don’t even have to be a good singer,” Deokhui says. “Just come along for the fun.”

Ran-niichan was a good singer. Aya did well enough in music class, is probably an okay singer at best. She’s never gone to a karaoke parlor before. She knows a noraebang is pretty much the same thing. 

The shop closes an hour later on Fridays and Saturdays to accommodate customers on the weekend, but still in plenty of time for Aya to have supper at a decent time and go out to do something fun. Which she hasn’t done yet, because she has no friends at her school.

“Guhui will be there,” Deokhui adds. She widens her eyes and blinks up at Aya, and Aya realizes that this is the same tactic she’d use on Ran-niichan when she really wanted something from him, something he was reluctant to do but that she knew would be fun for both of them.

Deokhui has been nothing but sweet and sincere since Aya has known her. Aya doesn’t want to spoil their relationship. 

“Come on, just once. If you hate it, you never have to go again.” Deokhui bats her eyelashes.

Aya still hesitates. 

“I can teach you how to be a Soul6,” Deokhui adds. Of course, the fandom for her favorite idol group. Her enthusiasm for them is a little baffling, but her energy is infectious, so Aya laughs and nods.

“All right. I’ll go.”

Deokhui says, “I’ll text you the time and address. See you!” And she ducks out of The Flower Box.

Jinjoo watches her go and says, “You should go too. Get dressed up - put on some makeup and some jewelry. It’s your first time at a noraebang, right?”

Aya nods.

“You live like an old woman so often. Go be with girls your age.”

“But - your husband and son -”

“Will survive without me for an hour.” Jinjoo smiles benevolently and nudges her toward the door. “Have fun.”

So Aya hangs up her apron and scoops up her backpack and heads out of the shop, past the nursery, and to her house. She spends a long time choosing an outfit, even if she’s not going on a date. In the end she settles on something that makes her feel cute, even if she’s pretty sure none of the boys at school would particularly like it. She wears comfortable shoes and puts a rainbow carnation in her hair, and then she heads off to meet Deokhui and the rest.

Besides Deokhui and Guhui, there’s only one other girl, Gaeun, and she doesn’t look entirely excited to be there. Deokhui makes introductions - Guhui and Gaeun went to middle school together before they both ended up at the same high school as Deokhui.

The noraebang is downtown on one of the bustling main streets, tucked in between the fried chicken restaurant Guhui’s parents own and a screen baseball parlor. Soccer had always been Ran-niichan’s thing, not baseball, but Aya remembers that the baseball players at her high school back in Japan were very popular.

While Deokhui sets up the music machine and arranges the microphones, Guhui is on the phone texting to her boyfriend. Gaeun sits on the couch beside Aya, arms crossed over her chest, not looking at her.

But finally she gives in and says, “Do you like going to the noraebang?”

“I’ve never been before,” Aya admits. “I didn’t go to karaoke parlors when I lived in Japan either.”

“Why did you move to Korea?” Gaeun asks. “I always liked Japan when I visited.”

Aya says, “It was time for a change.”

Gaeun eyes her. “You speak Korean very well.”

Aya ducks her head. “I have been very fortunate, to have a small gift for some languages.” It’s the truth, though not the one Gaeun thinks.

Gaeun leans in closer. “I really like coming to the noraebang, but my other friends don’t like it much.” She lowers her voice and adds, “Don’t tell Deokhui, but I do actually like this idol group. Not as much as she does, but I like their music. It’s bright and catchy.”

“I don’t know their music very well,” Aya says. “We take turns picking music in the shop, but since Jinjoo-unni is the oldest, she usually picks what we listen to. What I’ve heard from Deokhui is pretty good, though.”

“Are you any good at singing?” Gaeun asks.

“I’m not terrible.”

“What about dancing?”

“I like dancing, but I took judo instead of dance in PE back in Japan.” Aya shrugs. “My brother did kendo, and I wanted to be like him, so I did judo, but I would have liked to do dance, too. My PE teacher praised my dancing sometimes.”

“Well, if you’re not great at singing and don’t get a good score on the machine, you rate well with your friends if you dance well,” Gaeun said. 

Aya nodded. “Okay. Thank you. I should practice.”

Gaeun says, “Tell me your number. I’ll send you a list of pop songs everyone should know how to dance to.” Her expression is warmer now, genuine.

“Thank you.” Aya bows her head, then recites her phone number. Gaeun sends her a text so she has Gaeun’s phone number, and then Deokhui is summoning them to sing.

As it turns out, Aya knows the band’s songs better than she realized, probably because Deokhui puts them on the shop’s playlist often. Deokhui is a very enthusiastic singer, and she knows the songs so well that she can do the breathtaking rap parts. Guhui knows the songs better than Gaeun, but Gaeun is a better singer, and also a good dancer.

Whenever Deokhui picks a song, she of course picks songs by her favorite band, so she scores well. More often than not Guhui picks songs from them as well, and Deokhui sings with her, and they sound well together. They’re very good friends. Aya had very good friends back in Japan, but she doesn’t miss them. She wonders if she should be worried about that. Gaeun picks songs by girl bands that she knows the dances to. She’s a very cute dancer. Aya picks songs she thinks she has half a chance to sing along to. She picks some songs in English, because she knows she can sing those well. The other girls compliment her English skills, and she demurs, because she didn’t come by her English skills very fairly.

The final song of the night is one all of them can sing, and they sing with abandon, dancing and jumping and cheering. They’ve all had so many colas they probably won’t be able to sleep tonight, but Aya is full of energy and light, and she can’t remember the last time she had so much fun. She dances with abandon, trying to recall all the dance moves she’d practice in her bedroom with her headphones on so as not to disturb Ran-niichan while he studied, and -

“Hey!” Gaeun cries. “She can do the moonwalk!”

Deokhui and Guhui cheer, and Aya keeps dancing, and when the song ends, they collapse on each other in a group hug, breathless and laughing. 

“Wow,” Deokhui says after. “You’re a really cool dancer.”

Aya blushes and ducks her head. “Thank you.”

“Did you have fun?” Guhui asks. 

Aya nods. “Yes. Thank you so much for inviting me.”

Gaeun pats her on the arm. “You’re totally invited next time.”

Aya lights up. “Thank you!”

They go next door to Guhui’s parents’ restaurant and share a plate of fried chicken. Guhui’s parents are glad to see Gaeun again after such a long time, and they are pleased to see that Guhui has made a new friend in Aya. Watching them fuss over Guhui makes Aya miss her own parents with aching fierceness, but she is also pleased that she has made new friends. This is why she moved somewhere new. She is making a new life for herself. 

After the delicious meal, the girls part ways at the door. Aya heads home feeling pleasantly warm and energetic. Overhead the stars gleam a bit brighter, and she hums some of the new songs she learned. 

The next day, she receives a text message from Gaeun that has links to a bunch of music videos for popular K-pop songs that lots of kids know the dances to. Aya thanks her. 

After that, when she takes study breaks at home, she dances. 

_V. Heart Brew Love_

The first time Aya learns Hanahaki Disease is real is when a woman comes into the shop, asking for help for her son.

She is pale, drawn, exhausted, nervous as she approaches the counter. Her son wears the uniform from Deokhui’s school; Deokhui isn’t working today. The boy trails behind his mother, shoulders hunched, coughing into a handkerchief. Not many kids carry those these days.

Jinjoo is out on a supply run, which is good, because she’s a bit of a germophobe, as her son has a weak immune system.

The woman casts a furtive look around before she reaches into her purse and draws out a folded handkerchief. She lays it on the counter and unfolds it, revealing a smattering of damp, crushed white petals.

“Can you tell me what kind of flower these came from?”

Aya leans in, peers. “Do you mind if I touch them?”

“Do what you need to do.”

Aya separates the flower petals carefully, flattens them a bit so she can get the shape of them. She checks her flower catalogue. “I believe they’re from a gardenia.”

The boy coughs - he sounds very ill, and Aya is surprised he’s not wearing a dust mask - and the woman flinches.

“What do gardenias mean? In flower language.”

“I am more familiar with hanakotoba - Japanese flower language - than western flower language,” Aya begins.

“Hanakotoba is fine,” the woman says quickly.

The boy coughs again, doubling over, and the woman looks more pained than he does.

“Gardenias represent secret love,” she says.

The woman lets out a shaky breath, her eyes closing for a moment. Then she nods and says, “Thank you.” She turns to her son and says, “Are you sure you don’t want to confess? If it’ll heal you -”

The boy darts a wide-eyed look at Aya, who doesn’t wear her school uniform at the shop.

“I can’t, Mom. I know she will never love me back.”

The woman sniffles, crumples the handkerchief in her fist, crushing the delicate white flower petals. “If you don’t even try -”

The boy dissolves into a fit of coughing, and the woman puts her arm around him, pulls him close, comforts him.

Aya misses her own mother with a sudden sharp pang of longing.

The woman starts to lead her son toward the door, but then she pauses. She turns back to Aya. “You heal flowers?” She points to the little sign on the door below the shop’s posted hours. 

“If they’re not in too bad condition,” Aya hedges.

The woman says, “Have you ever heard of Hanahaki Disease?”

“In manga and fanfiction…?”

The boy coughs some more, and Aya realizes. She raises her eyebrows.

The woman nods.

“I’m no doctor,” Aya says. “I can’t get plants out of his lungs.”

The woman sniffles again. “The specialist says that the disease is so advanced that once the flowers are cut out, he’ll never be able to love again.”

Aya looks at the boy, who’s the same age she was when she went into a coma. He has his whole life ahead of him. She’s not interested in finding love - right now, if ever - but she is sure she is able to love.

“Can you help him?” the woman begs.

The boy collapses to his knees, retching, and Aya knows he’s about to cough up a full blossom. If what Aya has read about the disease is accurate, the boy’s case must be very advanced. The woman drops to her knees beside him, sobbing. Aya jumps over the counter to help the woman lift the boy to his feet. She reaches for the boy, and a slimy blossom lands in her open hand.

The boy chokes out an apology, and his mother clings to him.

The flower hums with a strange energy, and Aya has an idea. “Ahjumma,” she says to the woman, “after your son’s surgery, bring the plant’s main root straight to me. I think I can save his love.”

It sounds impossible, insane, but then the disease itself is both of those things, and Aya is holding evidence of its reality right in her hand.

The woman nods, thanking her profusely. Aya helps the woman help her son out to the bus stop, and then she heads back into the shop. She doesn’t tell either Jinjoo or Deokhui about what happened.

A week later, the woman returns with a bloody root wrapped in another handkerchief. Aya whisks it into the nursery and pots it immediately, nourishes the soil with her own brew of plant food and water, and she lets that magical light fill her.

A week after that, a small gardenia plant is thriving in a secluded corner of the nursery. The woman and her son come into the shop. The boy is still recovering from major surgery but looks miles better than when Aya last saw him. The woman looks better, too.

“Thank you,” the woman says, over and over again. “Whatever you did - thank you.” She explains that the side-effects the specialist warned them about - her son losing all memory of the person he’d loved, losing all ability to romantically love in the future - have not happened. He remembers the person he loved, still likes the person in a non-romantic way, and the specialist thinks her son will be able to love again one day.

Aya realizes - she is keeping the boy’s love alive.

“You’re welcome,” she says. She asks the boy, “Do you have a picture? Of the person you loved.”

He fishes his phone out of his pocket. “I have lots. I should probably delete some…”

“Can you send one to me? For my files,” Aya says.

“Why?” the boy’s mother asks.

“Because,” Aya says, “maybe one day your son will want these feelings back. Minds change. People change. Hearts change.”

The woman looks skeptical, but the boy emails Aya a picture of a girl with wide eyes and a bright smile. Later, Aya prints the picture and laminates it, sticks it to the flower pot where the gardenias live.

She wonders if she will be able to put love back into someone’s heart, if she will ever get the chance to try.

A few months later, another parent comes seeking help for a lovelorn child; the first boy’s mother told the specialist what Aya can do. Aya still doesn’t tell Jinjoo or Deokhui about this new service she offers. She asks no price, but Dr. Park sends her gifts sometimes, trying to bribe her into telling him how she does what she does, but she can’t really explain it herself.

Neither Deokhui nor Jinjoo ask about the little memorial garden Aya arranges in the back corner of the nursery, rows of flower pots with people’s pictures on them - and people’s love inside them.

_VI. Love Wheel_

It’s Gaeun who comes up with the idea for a day out at the theme park. Jinjoo agrees to watch the shop by herself for a single Saturday so Aya and Deokhui can go. Jinjoo has all kinds of advice for their day out: wear comfortable shoes, bring a wide-brimmed hat and sunblock and a sturdy water bottle - and a camera to take lots and lots of pictures.

Aya meets Deokhui at the bus stop, and together they ride to the train station. They meet Gaeun and Guhui on the platform. Guhui is with her boyfriend, Jihoon, and his best friend Kangmin. Deokhui has mentioned Kangmin before. As much as she is a loyal fan for her most favorite idol group and steadfastly adores her ultimate bias (favorite boy) in said group, she likes Kangmin. They’re not officially dating, but Aya is happy for Deokhui when she sees the way Kangmin smiles at her.

They all sit together on the train, huddled close and taking group selfies, smiling and flashing peace signs. Some of the people Gaeun and Guhui went to middle school with go to Aya’s high school, and she helps them catch up on news about their old classmates. Kangmin’s father is a businessman who’s been to Japan before, and one time Kangmin went with him, and he learned some Japanese, so he practices his limited Japanese with Aya. 

Before, Aya hadn’t been much for taking pictures. Reiji Takatori had ordered her family’s home burned down the night he tried to kill her. Aya has no pictures of her family left. So she smiles and leans in and does her best for the camera. If there are pictures, she can remember better.

Of course they pose for pictures at the gate to the theme park, all of them waving their tickets and grinning. They make sure they all have each other’s phone numbers so they can reconnect if they get separated. Deokhui, ever the organizer, insists on a buddy system. Guhui pairs with Jihoon, naturally. Kangmin looks at Deokhui hopefully, and Gaeun rolls her eyes before taking Aya’s hand.

“We’ll be on a team together,” she says, and Aya nods.

Deokhui and Kangmin exchange shy smiles, ducking their heads and blushing.

Once they’re inside the park, the first order of business is snacks, so they buy churros and then huddle together while they consult a map of the park and plan which rides they want to take. Deokhui has organized fan tours before, so she is able to plan the most efficient route, including a stop in the middle for lunch, a break for an afternoon snack, and then time to ride their favorite rides again. Once everyone agrees, they dust the sugar and cinnamon off their hands, Deokhui takes charge of the map, and they head off to the first ride.

“Are you afraid of roller coasters?” Gaeun asks. They’re at the park early enough in the day that the lines aren’t too long, and to take advantage of that they plan to ride all the popular roller coasters first.

Aya has been kidnapped and had a demon possess her. Her family was murdered and she survived a coma. She tilts her head back and looks up and up and up at the roller coaster track, swallows hard.

“Yes,” she says. “But they’re also exciting.”

She moved to Korea despite not knowing anyone or anything there. She opened a business and started a new school. The roller coaster will be nothing in comparison.

They laugh when the student operating the ride insists that Guhui be height-checked before advancing in the line.

Once Aya is in the little car with the safety bar pulled down over her, she is scared, but she’s even more excited. 

She still screams when the roller coaster plunges into its first drop.

After, they hurry to the monitors to see the pictures of their faces as they were going down the first drop, and they laugh at each other, and the girls help each other straighten their hair.

“Did you go to a lot of theme parks back in Japan?” Guhui asks while they’re in line for the next ride, the viking ship.

“Not really, no. My brother never liked them.” Aya perches on the railing and shrugs. “I’ve been to one once before, and I was tall enough to ride some of the bigger roller coasters, but none as big as some of these.” She points to a tall roller coaster with a corkscrew loop-de-loop.

Deokhui lights up. “You have an older brother? Is he in university?”

“Ah, no.” Aya looks away. Manx and Birman told her what to say about Ran in case anyone ever asks. “He works for the government, in intelligence. I haven’t seen him in months.”

She might never see him again, but she isn’t about to tell them that.

Guhui’s eyes go wide. “Your parents must worry a lot.”

“Ah - my parents died a few years ago. I live on my own,” Aya says. It’s the truth. She won’t lie. But she doesn’t volunteer these kinds of details either, not usually.

Kangmin raises his eyebrows. “Is that legal?”

“Well, I’m of legal age in Japan, so…” Aya shrugs. She’s of legal age in Korea. Reiji Takatori attempted to murder her when she was sixteen. She was in a coma for three years. She worked at the Koneko no Sumu Ie for a year. 

“I’m sorry,” Gaeun says in a low voice.

Aya shrugs again. “Ran-niichan did a lot to take care of me, but now I’m on my own to finish high school. It’s fine. I have Jinjoo-unni and Deokhui and my job.”

“I’m impressed with how motivated you are,” Jihoon says. “To take care of yourself and do well in school and even have a part-time job.”

Aya ducks her head. “Thank you. It’s my life now, I guess.”

“And you chose to move to Korea? Are you insane? Do you have a death wish?” Kangmin asks.

“You do speak Korean very well.” Gaeun pats her hand.

“I had an amazing teacher,” Aya says. Schuldig is amazing, not nice. She hops off the railing. “As for a death wish - let’s sit on the highest row!”

After that, she is careful to steer the conversation to the others. She learns that Guhui has a big brother who is a medical student and also works part time at her parents’ chicken restaurant. He is handsome but annoying. Jihoon, Kangmin, and Gaeun are all only children.

Gaeun confesses to Aya, while they’re standing in line for another roller coaster, that her parents are divorced and her father mostly ignores her. 

Jihoon has worked part-time as a model before. He and Kangmin have been friends since elementary school.

Thanks to Deokhui’s careful planning, they ride on all the exciting roller coasters before the lines get too long, and they break for lunch. While they eat at the food court, huddled under a large umbrella to protect them from the worst of the sun, they mark which rides they would like to ride again and review their path for the afternoon. They have all day at the park, want to stay and watch the light show at night before closing, and by then the crowds will be thinner as well, lines shorter so they can get in some final thrills.

As exciting as the roller coasters are, the smaller rides - like the cute flying ladybugs and the spinning teacups - are more fun somehow, maybe because more of them can ride together, or maybe because Aya isn’t overwhelmed by the rushing and spinning and changing gravity, can enjoy the wind in her face and the warm sun overhead. They pose in front of every ride, clustered close, arms around each other, all smiles and peace signs and hearts. They take turns taking pictures so everyone is in the pictures, and eventually Aya starts to brave up and ask strangers to take pictures for them. She promises to share the pictures with everyone else after.

There are screams and laughter on the log boat water ride. There are cheers and dizziness on the spinning teacups. There are surprising team divisions on the bumper cars: Aya, Deokhui, and Jihoon against the other three. No one is surprised that Jihoon is the best at carnival games like darts and basketball and baseball and the ring toss. Everyone is surprised that Aya is the best at the cap gun shooting challenge. Kangmin is the best at the claw machine, and everyone pitches in money so he can win them stuffed animals. He wins two for Deokhui, which she accepts with a pleased blush.

They have supper as the sun is starting to set, enjoying overpriced burgers and sharing fries. Jihoon and Guhui share a sundae.

“It’s almost time,” Deokhui says in a low voice to the others.

“Time for what?” Kangmin asks.

Gaeun rolls her eyes. “The ferris wheel, obviously.” 

Deokhui pats her wallet. “I have enough to bribe the operator to stop it once Guhui and Jihoon are at the top.”

“Ah. That old cliche.” It’s Kangmin’s turn to roll his eyes.

Deokhui and Gaeun both slap him on the arms. 

“Shut up,” Deokhui says. “It’s romantic.”

“What’s romantic?” Jihoon looks up from his sundae, amused.

“Nothing,” Aya says quickly.

Kangmin eyes Deokhui. “You really think so?”

She nods. “Of course.”

“Obviously Guhui and Jihoon will be in a car of their own,” Gaeun says. “Honestly I like riding the ferris wheel alone.”

“Me too,” Aya says quickly. “But we shouldn’t spread out too much. Deokhui, Kangmin, you should ride together. If you go in the car right behind Guhui and Jihoon, you’ll be able to enjoy a view close to the top, too.”

“Okay,” Kangmin says a little too quickly, darting a nervous glance at Deokhui, but she’s blushing again, pleased.

The sun is setting as they stand in line for the ferris wheel. It’s slow-going because plenty of couples want to ride alone, which means most of the cars don’t have as many riders as they could, but Aya doesn’t mind. By the time they get to the front of the line, the park will be lit up for the evening, and she’s excited to see the lights. 

The ride operator requires bribes from both Deokhui and Gaeun to agree to stop a specific car at the top. When Guhui isn’t looking, Jihoon chips in, and then he helps her into the car. Deokhui and Kangmin take the one right after. Gaeun tells Aya she can take the next one alone - she’s willing to ride with a bigger group of strangers so as to appease the ride operator.

Aya settles back into the bright plastic car and realizes this is the first time she’s been alone all day. She likes having friends, likes being around them, but she’s been on her own for so long that being around people takes energy in a way it didn’t before the coma.

After she woke up, Manx and Birman and Momoe-san were nice to her, as was Sakura, but being around them was hard, the weight of all Ran-niichan had done heavy between them, and the weight of what had happened to Aya, how no one knew what temporary demonic possession did to a teenage girl who hadn’t aged for the three years she was in a coma.

Aya takes in the view as she rises above the park. The lights glitter like stars gathered down from the heavens. She hears some groans as the ferris wheel grinds to a halt with Guhui and Jihoon in the car at the top, but she doesn’t mind, takes pictures: some selfies, some just of the lights. Of course she’ll print and share the pictures with the others. But she will also put some up around the house, around the shop. She has no pictures around the house, she realizes, not even of herself. The only pictures she has are in the greenhouse, of other people’s loves.

She has people she loves. She wants pictures of them. 

The ferris wheel groans back to life, and Aya watches her descent, thinking of the best way to get what she wants.

When she rejoins the others on the ground, Guhui and Deokhui have their heads bent close, giggling and shooting looks at Jihoon and Kangmin. Before Aya can ask what happened, Gaeun joins them, and it’s time to stake out a good spot to watch the light parade before one last round of roller coasters. 

At first Aya is entranced by the lights and acrobats and dancers and the cheery music. Fireworks explode and glitter overhead, and everyone tilts their heads back to watch, cooing and cheering, and then Aya is reminded of the fireworks in the air above the matsuri on the night of her sixteenth birthday, the night her parents were murdered, and she’s crying.

Tears slip down her face and it’s hard to breathe. Gaeun notices first and puts an arm around her shoulders, tugs her out of the crowd and to a bench on the side of the park’s main thoroughfare. She doesn’t ask questions, just holds Aya while she cries. Once Aya can breathe again, Gaeun leads her to the nearest restroom so she can splash cold water on her face so it’s not so obvious she was crying.

They catch up to the others in time to start their reprise of the exciting roller coasters.

They finish re-riding all the roller coasters they planned to half an hour before the park closes. Their feet are sore and they’re all a little sunburnt despite their best efforts with their sunscreen, but their smiles are still bright. 

Deokhui is the first to fall asleep on the train back to town, her head on Kangmin’s shoulder. Guhui and Jihoon fall asleep on each other soon after that. Gaeun falls asleep on Aya’s shoulder, leaving Aya and Kangmin to smile tiredly at each other.

They part ways at the bus station in town, promising to send check-in texts once they arrive home.

Aya is awake long after she receives a final _ I’m home safe! I had fun today! Let’s do it again soon! _ from Gaeun. She’s sitting up in bed, laptop open on her knees, downloading pictures off her camera and choosing the best ones to send to the others.

While she has her email open, she sends a message to Manx, Birman, and Momoe-san, asking if any of them have pictures of her family, her brother, and his teammates.

Momoe-san is the only one who responds several days later. She has a picture of Aya’s family, one that Ran kept in his room above the flower shop. She also has pictures of Ran and each of his teammates. Omi is in his uniform, smiling for a school picture. Yohji is flirting with the camera. Ken is running along a beach, probably after a soccer ball. Ran is working on an ikebana arrangement in the shop.

Aya prints out the pictures of her family and her brother’s teammates and the pictures of her new family. She posts pictures of her parents and brother and her new family in the shop and around her house. She puts the pictures of her brother and his teammates in the greenhouse on their flower pots in her little flower shrine, and when she sees them, sometimes she cries, but mostly she smiles.

_ VII. All Night _

Aya thinks she should be used to strange requests after working in the flower shop for six months, but she is surprised every day. She often provides flowers for weddings, funerals, for _ get well soon _ and _ I’m sorry your mother died _ and _ congratulations on your new baby. _ She has also provided flowers for _ You’re the best secretary I’ve ever had, I’m sorry I yelled at you, please don’t leave me _ and _ Congratulations, you drank more than Uncle Chanyeol _ and _ No, that dress doesn’t make you look fat. _

But when Jinjoo comes into the nursery and says, “Help me pick flowers to match this boy’s hair color,” Aya is so surprised she drops her pruning shears.

Jinjoo looks completely serious, so Aya nods, scoops up her pruning shears and sets them aside, and follows Jinjoo back out to the main shop.

Where six boys wearing dust masks and big dark sunglasses and t-shirts and skinny jeans are standing at the counter, surrounded by fussy-looking men and women in suits. For all that Aya cannot see the boys’ faces, she can tell they are nervous. One boy has light purple hair, another pale pink hair, one pale orange hair, the fourth golden blond hair, the fifth black hair, and the sixth brown hair.

“Not just flowers,” one woman in a stylish suit says, waving a tablet. “Other plants. And not just plants that match their hair - plants that also accent their looks in general.”

“We’d be better able to help you if we knew what they looked like,” Jinjoo says, nodding at the boys’ masks.

Another woman bustles forward. “Here’s the make-up palette I’m planning on using for him.” She puts a hand on the pink-haired boy’s shoulder and holds out an actual makeup palette. Aya was expecting another data tablet.

“And here’s the fabric for his first costume -” A third woman whips out a piece of cardboard with several fabric swatches stapled to it - “and his second costume, and his third costume.”

Jinjoo raises her eyebrows at the tweed and houndstooth and sparkly fabric and the pastel pale colors.

One of the men holds out a datapad. “Here are the lighting concepts for the scenes he’ll be in.”

“Are you making a movie?” Aya asks.

The people in suits exchange looks.

“A short film,” a man says.

“What I really want is roses,” the first man says. “Different-colored roses for these three, and then similar flowers but in different colors for these three, and also some alternate plants.”

“What about fruit?” Jinjoo asks. “Like - oranges.” She nods at the blond boy.

There’s a hurriedly whispered conference, but then a man says, “That’s actually not a bad idea.”

Aya eyes the orange-haired boy. “Do all of them have to have a signature flower? It would be interesting if one of them had just leaves or something.”

The first woman says, “We’ve heard that you can dye flowers any color.”

“Color takes best in carnations and chrysanthemums,” Aya says, “but we can color roses. How many do you need?”

Another man flips over his datapad and shows her a concept sketch.

“That’s...more flowers than we can do on short notice,” Aya says slowly.

“If you can provide us with the flowers we need,” a woman says, “this is how much we will pay you.” She pushes an unsigned check across the counter.

Jinjoo goggles at the amount. Her father is wealthy, so Aya has to peek over her shoulder to see how much money warrants that kind of reaction from her.

She swallows hard.

“We don’t need all the flowers right away,” another woman says, and Aya suspects that the number of people in her shop has been multiplying while she and Jinjoo have been trying not to stare at the boys’ hair. “We just want some samples. Can you get them to us tomorrow?”

Jinjoo raises her eyebrows at Aya. This could mean a lot of money for the shop.

“Sure,” Aya says.

“Excellent,” one of the men says.

“Just - can I take pictures? Of their hair. To dye some flowers to match. I’ll have to experiment with colors.” Aya will be up all night mixing and matching and also using her magic, but she can do this. 

The men and women exchange looks.

“Just their hair,” Aya says. 

“It’s not like she can see their faces anyway,” Jinjoo points out.

Aya and Jinjoo are left with pictures of the boys’ hair, their eyes (they’re wearing colored contact lenses), pictures of their costume swatches, and copies of concept sketches before the boys are told to put on hats and then the entire caravan of suit-clad adults whisks the boys out the door and into a series of black vans.

“Are you sure you can do this?” Jinjoo asks.

Aya nods. “Yes.” With the aid of lots and lots of green tea, she can stay up all night and do this. For the sake of her shop.

“Do you want me to stay and help?” 

Aya shakes her head. “No. I’ve got this.”

“I’m no good at dyeing flowers anyway.” Jinjoo shrugs. “You really think we can pull this off?”

“They said they’re filming at the botanical gardens nearby, right? So we’re just providing the accent flowers in the foreground - lighting will take care of the background, using the flowers and plants already in the garden,” Aya says. “We’re a flower shop, not a nursery. The botanical garden has some special orange trees, I think.”

Jinjoo squints at one of the concept drawings. “Are they putting these boys in boxes?”

Aya shrugs. “I’ve never really understood art.” Then she squints at the drawing. “I think that’s a phone booth.”

“Oh. Well. Whatever. Good luck. Shall I open tomorrow?”

“Please,” Aya says. “I’ll leave the completed samples in the refrigerator.”

As the men and women in suits refused to tell them the boys’ names, Aya and Jinjoo assigned them numbers one through six so as to be able to identify which flower samples were intended for whom.

At midnight, Aya has mixed multiple batches of pale pink, pale purple, gold, dark blue, orange, and teal, and has pushed her magic to its limits, getting plants to absorb the colored water more quickly. She’s drunk so much heavily caffeinated green tea that her hands are shaking a little.

By two in the morning her head is spinning, but she thinks she’s arrived at the right color combinations. She’s had to be methodical about her work, making sure her color mixtures are written down and samples are labeled so she knows which mixture led to which color. Were this a science project, she’d get the best grade in her class. She has used plants from all over her nursery to get the right look, not even always white flowers, because she has figured out how to accent flowers with colored water so their petals look two-toned.

At three in the morning Aya runs out of green tea without realizing it. She reaches for the nearest mug, takes a drink - and immediately spits out bitter water and a mouthful of petals.

And then she feels it. A strange tingle spreading through her limbs. For one moment, she is filled with warmth and light. She sees long black hair and wide dark eyes and hears musical laughter, and she is in love.

With a girl named Hwang Romi.

Aya doesn’t know anyone named Romi. 

Then she looks down at the mug she accidentally drank out of, and she looks at the pale pink blossom with purple along the edges of its petals, and she realizes what she has done. She has used flowers from the shrine for her experiments. She carries the mug over to the shrine and peers through the row of pots till she finds a photo that matches the image of the girl she saw in her mind a moment ago.

None of the pictures have names, but Aya recognizes the girl immediately. One of the people she helped heal was in one-sided love with a girl named Hwang Romi.

Aya abandons her color experiment and begins to experiment with the flowers in the shrine. She falls in love over and over again, just for a moment. The moment lasts longer if she swallows some of the petals, but they scratch her throat and sit heavy in her stomach.

Probably because they were not originally hers.

She searches the internet and learns that candied flower petals are a delicacy in other parts of the world. She fires up her kettle and brews potent rose-and-lavender teas and is in love with several people at once.

She thinks she can restore someone’s love to them, if they ever want it back.

When dawn arrives, she has six specially-dyed flowers, one for each of six nameless boys, and she is drunk on love. She puts the flowers in the cooler in the shop, and she drags herself on to bed. She was up all night. She will let Jinjoo handle the day.

_ VIII. 1 in a Million _

“You know how my husband works at a broadcast station?” Jinjoo is helping Aya and Deokhui assemble boutonnières for a wedding. 

Deokhui nods. “Has he finally been promoted to variety shows?”

Jinjoo sighs. “Not yet. But because he has connections, he got us a job.”

“What kind of job?” Aya asks. 

“You already know about it - you helped do the initial work,” Jinjoo says. 

Aya didn’t make it out of bed until almost noon today. “Ah, yes.”

“What job?” Deokhui asks. She’s very good with her hands. All her boutonnières look identical. 

“It’s a one-in-a-million chance that this worked out,” Jinjoo says. “So we have to do our best and represent this flower shop well.”

“What _ is _ it?” Deokhui presses. 

“We’re helping with the props for a short film that’s going to be shot at the botanical garden here in town,” Aya says, unamused by Jinjoo’s dramatics. 

“Not any short film - a music video,” Jinjoo says. 

Aya raises her eyebrows. “What? But the man said -” And then it all clicks into place. Six boys with outlandish hair colors, wearing dust masks and big sunglasses and caps like they were undercover celebrities. 

“A music video for who?” Deokhui asks. 

Aya says, “3X3 SOUL.” It has to be them, given how Jinjoo’s building up to it. 

3X3 SOUL is Deokhui’s favorite idol group. 

Deokhui rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “No way. You’re just teasing me.”

Jinjoo says, “You can’t tell _ anyone. _ You can’t even post about it online anonymously.” She pushes the six photos of the boys’ hair across the workbench. 

Deokhui pounces on the one of the boy with pale pink hair, eyes wide. “Yijeong-oppa!” Then she shuffles through the others, eyes growing wider and wider. “Kyungseok! Jinwoo? Your orange hair looks so good. Myeongjun is blond? Ooooh, Taeoh, your purple hair is so soft! Aaaaaah, Minhyeok, your hair is dark again!” She slaps the photos back down on the counter and peers at Jinjoo. “Is this real? Are you just messing with me?”

“No,” Jinjoo says.

Deokhui turns to Aya. “Is she messing with me?”

“No,” Aya says. “These pictures are from yesterday when they came in. They wanted us to match flowers to their hair or eyes, and they had to leave us pictures so we knew exactly what color -”

Deokhui is off like a shot, running in circles around the counter and screaming like a maniac. Aya is afraid she’s going to hyperventilate and faint. Jinjoo is amused.

Deokhui is chanting the name of the band over and over again as she does laps around the shop, arms raised high. Finally she collapses against the counter and smiles fondly down at the photo of the pink-haired boy.

“It’s a dream come true. Yijeong-oppa, I finally get to meet you.”

Jinjoo stares at her. “How can you tell it’s him? Literally all you can see of him is his hair. And sort of the shape of his chin. And, okay, his neck and his ears.”

Deokhui strokes the edge of the photo reverently. “He’s my ultimate bias. I can always tell.” Then she frowns. “Why did you give him the number six? He’s not the oldest or the youngest.”

“They wouldn’t tell us their names, so we had to make up our own system to identify them while we made samples,” Jinjoo says. “But you believe me, then? That we’re making a music video for them?”

Deokhui hugs the picture of the pink-haired boy to her chest. “I believe you. And I will do anything for my Oppa. What do we have to do?”

Even Deokhui, who once stayed up all night hand-sewing a dozen special plush dolls of her darling Yijeong, looks dismayed when she sees how many flowers are needed.

“We can make it happen,” Aya says. “It will deplete what we have in the nursery, but we can make it happen.”

She will need to use her magic to make it happen, but it can be done. 

Deokhui is still hesitant. “Are you sure?”

Aya nods. “Yes. Anything for Yijeong-oppa, right?”

Those are the magic words. Deokhui straightens up and squares her shoulders. “Right. What’s our timetable?”

They have a week to get the flowers dyed. Filming will take two days, and the flowers have to last the entire time. They have the chance to scout the filming locations at the botanical gardens so they know what they’re up against. 

It’s Jinjoo who’s their point of contact with the music video production team. She’s on her phone all the time, checking her email and answering text messages and calls. Deokhui and Aya are in charge of the flowers. Deokhui mixes the food coloring and measures daily dosages for the flowers while Aya cuts the stems and arranges the water intake (with the help of her magic, but she’s good enough at it that no one can tell when she’s using it for flower dyeing). 

While they work, Deokhui educates Jinjoo and Aya in all things 3X3 SOUL. She posts pictures of them all over the nursery and the back workroom so Jinjoo and Aya learn their names and faces and can identify them at a glance. She quizzes them about the band’s debut date, all their albums and singles, the boys’ ages and birthdays, favorite foods and drinks. She plays their songs over and over again so Aya and Jinjoo can tell their voices apart. 

Jinjoo learns surprisingly fast - but she admits to Deokhui that when she was younger she was a fan of an idol group that no longer exists. 

“It’s not fair, though,” Jinjoo says, “when one of the rappers is also a really good singer. It throws me off.”

Aya, who has paused in administering colored water to some golden roses, says, “Is that who that is? I couldn’t tell if it was Yijeong or Myeongjun.”

Deokhui looks absurdly pleased. “Minhyeok is a rapper, but he trained as a singer.”

Jinjoo says, “I wouldn’t have known he was a rapper just from listening to him sing.”

Jinjoo is the one who gets Aya excused from school on the filming days. Deokhui’s mother is a huge 3X3 SOUL fan and is more than willing to get her excused from school for two days. She also lets Deokhui borrow her nice camcorder so she can make a mini-documentary of behind the scenes and meeting the band (which, of course, Deokhui won’t post on her fan page until after the video is released). 

When the big day finally arrives, it starts painfully early, before the sun rises. Jinjoo picks up Aya in the flower shop’s delivery van - they have a scooter for smaller deliveries - and then they pick up Deokhui. Jinjoo looks as exhausted as Aya feels. Aya and Deokhui were both up late the night before in the nursery, prepping two more days’ worth of colored water doses for all the flowers, as well as boxing up some petri dishes and water droppers that the video production team had requested, along with every single red and white rose the flower shop had. 

Deokhui meets them in front of her house, beaming, laden down with her Flower Box apron, her camera, and a cooler full of snacks and drinks so the three of them can maintain their energy. Even though Deokhui was up as late as Aya, she is perky and bubbly and bright. Aya was using her magic on the flowers, and she’s drained, so she digs through the cooler and gobbles down some rice cakes before they even make it to the botanical gardens.

Deokhui bounces out of the van first, looking around eagerly for her Yijeong-oppa and his bandmates, but all any of the florists can see are crew members in black t-shirts and black jeans, hauling gear.

The production manager wants to split them up to work with the art team. She speaks to Jinjoo, but Jinjoo looks at Aya before making job assignments. Deokhui is the least experienced of the three of them, so she’s assigned to do some set decoration, and she’s whisked away with bundles of red and purple flowers. As she’s being hustled away, she’s craning her neck in search of Yijeong, and an assistant art director is saying something insane-sounding about putting flowers into IV bags.

Aya shivers at the reminder of her time in a hospital and listens to the assistant art director she’ll be helping. Jinjoo will be in charge of the yellow, white, and red roses. Aya, whose flower dyeing expertise is crucial to the success of this project, will be taking care of the specially-dyed pale pink and purple roses.

Because the flowers are delicate and only have a short lifespan once they’re removed from their flower pots, they will be added to the set last, but Aya sets up trellises and stands and everything else needed for the flowers to be displayed at their best. 

There’s a phone box, as she saw in the concept sketches, but there is also a large glass display case which will be filled with flowers, light bars - and Kyungseok. Aya hopes Kyungseok isn’t claustrophobic if he has to spend a while in the box. There’s a bath that will be filled with red and white rose petals - and Deokhui’s beloved Yijeong. There are also two couches, some kind of lab full of scientific glassware (the request for petri dishes makes more sense now), a room full of flowers hanging in IV bags, and a kind of flower shop. Best as Aya can tell, each member of the band has two solo sets, and then there are three group sets. 

Aya, Deokhui, and Jinjoo help arrange glassware, move couches, set tables, and more. 

Aya knows the moment the band arrives because Deokhui lets out a squeal and muffles it immediately. She grabs Aya’s wrist and squeezes. She’s practically vibrating with excitement. 

Aya turns and sees six boys - though at least two of them are no longer in high school - walk into the empty room that will function as one of their group sets. They’re wearing ordinary jeans and t-shirts, but their hair is carefully styled.

Jinjoo is murmuring under her breath - testing herself on their names.

The boys stand in a line and offer their team greetings, bow, promise to work hard today. Aya bows when the rest of the crew does. Then the boys go to set down their backpacks and bookbags in one corner. One of the production staff hands out what looks like the bibs racers wear with their racing numbers on them, only instead of numbers they have names.

“Stretch out,” someone says, “and then run through the choreography a few times so the photographer knows where the point choreography is and who has center when.”

“That’s handy,” Jinjoo murmurs.

Apparently it’s all right for people to gather around and watch the boys dance. One of the shorter ones, the one with the orange hair - Jinwoo - asks one of the other boys to lead stretches, and once the stretching is done, someone fires up the music.

Deokhui is filming discreetly on her camera, but Aya doubts the footage she’s getting is any good, because she’s gazing dreamily at Yijeong. 

Aya is impressed at the boys’ synchronization, and she knows that for all the choreography seems simple and slow and graceful, it’s actually physically demanding. One of the photographers is watching on his camera monitor, taking notes. The group runs through the dance three times, and then they’re hustled off to makeup and wardrobe, and Aya, Jinjoo, and Deokhui have to scramble to decorate the first set with fresh flowers. 

“This song is so amazing!” Deokhui gushes, though she’s careful to keep her voice low as she and Aya twine soft pink roses up and down a trellis.

One of the other set decorators says, “You’ll be sick of it in a couple of hours, trust me.”

The woman isn’t wrong.

After the group emerges from the changing rooms in their first costumes, they dance to the song over and over and over again. First there are wide shots. Then there are close-up shots of whoever is center. Then there are close-up shots of the hook choreography and point choreography. 

In an effort to minimize costume changes - and the risk of costume damage - the director will film all the boys in their first set of costumes, first as a group, then individually. Then he’ll film them in their secondary costumes, as a group and then individually. Apparently for the third round of costumes all the boys will be on individual sets. Most of that filming will take place the next day.

By the time filming the group shots in the first set of costumes is done, Aya is pretty sure she has the song memorized. Deokhui definitely has it memorized. Even Jinjoo is humming along.

By the time the individual shoot for the oldest, Myeongjun, is finished, Aya is sick of the song. Jinjoo, who’s supervising poor Kyungseok in the box, is sick of the song halfway through his shoot. Deokhui still loves the song when they get finished with Taeoh’s scene, although Taeoh’s panic about nearly losing the goldfish he has to hold onto for his scene caused some excitement on his set.

Aya is exhausted before mid-morning even arrives, and by lunch time she’s starving. Deokhui breaks out the cooler she stocked, and the three florists huddle together, though Deokhui casts longing looks at where the band is sitting, eating gimbap while their stylists flit around them and dab sweat off their skin, warn them not to get food on their costumes, and touch up their hair.

“Well?” Jinjoo whispers to Deokhui. “Is he as beautiful as you always dreamed?”

“Even better.” Deokhui sighs happily.

The set is bustling with people. There are two cameras going at once so two individual scenes can be filmed at the same time in different parts of the botanical gardens so video production is more efficient. Aya is glad the set is crowded, because no one looks at her too closely as she tends to the flowers, both with the pre-mixed colored water doses she and Deokhui painstakingly prepared the night before and her magic.

Even though Deokhui only has eyes for Yijeong and his bandmates, the six of them know they’re not the center of attention, know to do their job and otherwise stay out of the way of the crew. For all that Deokhui speaks of Yijeong and the others like they’re pure angels sent from heaven, they’re just - boys. The same age as Aya and her high school friends. They laugh and tease each other, steal each other’s food, play games on their phones. There’s another camera crew there, to film the behind-the-scenes for the making of the music video, so when the boys aren’t lip-syncing to the song, they’re talking to the other camera crew.

Myeongjun, the shortest boy, the one with the wavy blond hair, whose individual set is the yellow roses and oranges and the flower shop scene for which he borrows Jinjoo’s apron - he sometimes actually sings along with the music.

“You have to,” he explains to the behind-the-scenes filming team while Aya carefully waters the specially-dyed yellow roses. “You can’t fake the emotion you put into a song, especially not the high notes.”

Deokhui says he’s the oldest, but he acts like the youngest, full of energy and laughter. He’s the shortest, too, but then Deokhui says the tallest one is actually the youngest.

Aya watches the six boys and wonders if that was how Ran was, with his teammates in Weiss. He was never quick to laughter or to silliness, had always been a bit of a stuffy old man before his time, but he had to trust Ken, Yohji, and Omi with his life. Surely they were friends? Surely they taunted Omi about how innocent he was, held water bottles out of Ken’s reach, made fun of Yohji for failing when he flirted with a girl.

Aya watches Myeongjun work. She is impressed by how his voice when he sings aloud sounds exactly like the voice on the recording. Given that he’s actually singing where most of the others are not, she’s not surprised when she ducks out of the building an hour later for some fresh air and finds him huddled against a wall, coughing.

Even if Aya doesn’t share Deokhui’s devotion to the band, she’s not heartless - and she remembers Deokhui’s lessons well.

She reaches into her apron pocket for a bottle of honey water (Deokhui insisted each of them carry one and offer it to a member of the band if they got the chance) and approaches Myeongjun carefully.

“Excuse me,” she says. “Are you all right? Do you need some water?”

“I’m fine,” Myeongjun says, smiling brightly at her, and then he doubles over, coughing again.

“Oh, no. Did you strain your throat singing?” Aya holds out the water bottle. “It’s honey water. It should soothe your throat.”

“Ah - thank you.” Myeongjun’s smile is tight around the edges, but he bows, reaches out to accept the water. He coughs again, covers his mouth with his forearm.

For one moment, Aya thinks he’s coughed up phlegm onto his sleeve, that he’s sick beyond over-straining his voice, but then she sees - he’s coughed up a pale yellow flower petal.

Myeongjun’s eyes go wide, and he dusts it off his sleeve quickly. “Oh my,” he says. “I probably have flower petals all over me from the set.” 

“Is it just petals?” Aya asks. “Or have you started coughing up whole flowers?”

He stares at her. “What?”

“You have a disease,” she says.

He shakes his head, though his eyes are wide. “No.”

Aya steps closer, ducks her head so she can speak softly. “I won’t tell anyone, but - I know a specialist. And I can help you.”

Before Myeongjun can answer, he doubles over in a coughing fit, and Aya pounds on his back with one hand, steadying him with the other. When he finally straightens up, his hands are full of damp petals and a single soggy blossom. He stares at it in horror.

Aya says, quietly but urgently, “Listen to me, you have a disease. If you don’t get it treated, it _ will _ kill you -”

“I know.”

“You can get treatment.”

Myeongjun presses a hand to his chest, over his heart. “I don’t want to forget him. If I forget him completely, they’ll know. The rest of the team.”

He’s in love with one of the other boys in his group. Aya can’t imagine how difficult that must be. She’s heard Deokhui talk about how idols aren’t allowed to date, how none of the boys in her beloved 3X3 SOUL have girlfriends. If having an ordinary girlfriend is out of the question, she can’t imagine what having a boyfriend would mean, especially a boyfriend who was in the same group.

“If you get it treated soon enough, you won’t forget his identity completely, you’ll just forget your feelings for him. But if you wait too long, even if you retain the memory of his identity, you may lose the ability to love romantically. You’ll never love again.”

Myeongjun stares at her. “How do you know so much?”

Aya puts one hand over the damp, wilting blossom in his cupped palms and uses a little bit of magic. When she pulls her hand back, the blossom is fully healthy, as if it just bloomed.

Myeongjun’s eyes are wide. “Can you cure me?”

Aya shakes her head. “The flowers are in your lungs. I’m no surgeon. But I can save your love.”

Myeongjun opens his mouth to ask more, but then Minhyeok pokes his head around the corner.

“Hyung! They’re looking for you.”

“Be right there,” Myeongjun says, stepping away from Aya.

Minhyeok nods politely at Aya, then goes back inside the building.

Myeongjun dusts the petals off his palms, but he keeps the flower Aya rescued. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

For the rest of the day, Myeongjun avoids Aya. As a result, the rest of his teammates avoid her too, watching her askance. Deokhui described Myeongjun as the team’s sunshine, the happy virus, but he’s quiet. Whenever he coughs, Aya looks at him. It’s Jinjoo who convinces him to finally take a bottle of honey water.

Aya, Jinjoo, and Deokhui are on set long after the boys of 3X3 SOUL have left, and even when they finally depart after midnight, a good number of the production team are still there. Even though Aya and her coworkers made sure the flowers got the last doses of water to last the night, Aya uses a bit of her magic, just in case. She wants her flowers to be beautiful.

The second day of filming passes in a bit of a haze, because Aya is exhausted. Between the lack of sleep and the sheer amount of magic she used the day before, she is drained. Deokhui keeps her going with a steady supply of green tea, but she only has enough energy to keep the flowers alive and help with the set decoration. Once in a while she spots Myeongjun sitting apart from the others, hears him cough.

At the lunch break, when she offers him a bottle of honey water, he accepts it. He only manages to get a couple of mouthfuls before one of his teammates pounces on him, laughing. 

Myeongjun protests and wriggles free, swats at the other boy - Jinwoo, the orange-haired team leader - and then breaks into a smile, laughs in return. Jinwoo steals the water bottle and scrambles away. As soon as his back is turned, Myeongjun’s smile dissolves, and he looks heartbroken. Then he notices Aya looking, and he shrugs apologetically.

Aya nods and goes back to tending her roses.

At the end of filming, everyone congratulates each other on finishing the project, thanks each other for working hard. There are bows and handshakes, hugs and high fives, backslaps and cheers. Several members of the art team and the production team congratulate Jinjoo.

“You and your team did excellent work,” a suit-clad woman says. She looks high-strung and has been wearing painful-looking heels all day, but it’s past midnight again and not a strand of her hair is out of place.

“Thank you,” Jinjoo says, casting Aya a sidelong glance.

Aya shrugs. Jinjoo got this job thanks to her husband’s connections. 

Deokhui’s enthusiasm hasn’t waned at all. Aya is pretty sure she didn’t sleep the night before, rewatching and editing her documentary footage. During a break in filming she worked up the courage to approach Yijeong and ask for an autograph, which he granted her with a sweet smile. Deokhui has been over the moon ever since. Aya wonders if she’s also had a dozen cups of coffee between then and now.

After one last round of congratulations, Aya, Jinjoo, and Deokhui pitch in to help clean up.

“What do you want with the flowers?” an AD asks Jinjoo.

Jinjoo shrugs. “Keep what you want, throw the rest.”

Deokhui keeps several samples of each of the flowers that were used for each member. Other members of the crew keep some of the flowers, to give to friends or lovers or loved ones. Aya is glad the flowers will be used for something more before they finally fade.

“I am impressed,” a man says, cradling an armful of pink roses. “The flowers have lasted so long.”

“We’re good at what we do,” Jinjoo says, smiling serenely, but she casts Aya another look.

Aya bows gratefully. 

After they have done their part, they tumble into the shop’s delivery van. Even Deokhui is tired.

“Well?” Jinjoo asks. “Was it a one-in-a-million experience?”

“A once-in-a-lifetime experience,” Deokhui says, smiling.

Aya says, “Thanks, Jinjoo. For helping us have this chance.” A chance for her to practice with her magic. A chance for her to think of her brother and his teammates fondly. And maybe a chance to help someone else.

_IX. Merry-Go-Round_

Aya rounds the corner and heads up the little stone-lined path to the shop. She comes up short when she sees that the grate is down and the shop is dark. She frowns and peers in through one of the front windows, but the shop is empty. She steps back and sees a neatly-handwritten sign stuck to the door below the _ Closed _ sign. 

_ Closed early for a family event. Please come back tomorrow! _

Aya reaches into her pocket for her phone. Jinjoo’s family is very important to her, and if she needed the afternoon off Aya would have skipped some of after school study to take over the shop, but Jinjoo has to _ tell _Aya what she needs. Where Jinjoo is older and has more business experience Aya respects her, but Aya is the owner of the shop and depends on its financial success in a way Jinjoo does not. Aya doesn’t pull rank on Jinjoo because it would confuse Deokhui and customers alike, but -

Hands on her shoulders startle her. 

Aya spins, hands up to guard. 

Deokhui and Gaeun are standing behind her, grinning. 

Deokhui looks pleased with herself. “Did you think I wouldn’t figure out when your birthday is? I know where 3X3 SOUL’s new dorms are within three days of them moving every time, and that kind of thing is practically top secret.”

Aya blinks at her. “What?”

“I know you’re shy about some personal things, but we _ have _ to celebrate your birthday,” Deokhui says. 

“Today?” Aya is still confused. 

Gaeun’s mouth drops open. “No way! You forgot your own birthday?”

Aya looks down at the date on her phone. It _ is _ her birthday. The anniversary of her parents’ death. She turns twenty-one today. She looks up at Gaeun and Deokhui. They think she’s turning seventeen. 

Gaeun rolls her eyes at Deokhui. “I told you she wasn’t just testing us and hoping for a surprise. She’s not like that.” 

“We need to go change into fun clothes, and then the fun will begin!” Deokhui cranes her neck. “How far away is your apartment? You always come here straight from school.”

“My house is close by,” Aya says, and starts toward the side path that leads around the shop and nursery to her house, then pauses. No knows where she lives, not even Jinjoo. 

“Great. We need to change too,” Gaeun says. 

There’s really no reason Aya should hide her home from her friends. They _ are _ her friends now. She leads them down the path to her house, which is a small hanok updated with modern conveniences. 

Deokhui’s eyes are wide. “You live here? Your parents must be rich.” And then she remembers, and she ducks her head. “Ah - sorry.”

“My parents left us some money,” Aya says. “And my brother works very hard to protect me.”

She works very hard to support herself. Ran used every penny of his money from his days with Weiss to pay her hospital bills. Aya cannot tell her friends those things. But she unlocks the front door and lets them in.

They take off their shoes, and Aya gives them the tour - the kitchen, the den, the bathroom and bedroom and guest room. Deokhui takes the guest room to change, so Gaeun heads for the bathroom, and Aya hurries into her bedroom.

Her birthday. How could she have forgotten her birthday?

Because three years to the day of her birthday, to the day her parents died, she awoke from a coma with a demon in her body and an assassin for an older brother. She didn’t bother to celebrate it last year. She’s pretty sure that Manx and Birman have her birthday written down somewhere in one of their files on Ran, but they didn’t mention it either.

She changes into some cute clothes, a comfortable skirt and top, even puts on a cute hair clip.

After a moment, she goes to her jewelry box and finds the earrings she begged Ran-niichan to buy for her on her sixteenth birthday. He wore one of them like an angsty J-pop idol for the three years she was in a coma. But both of them are in her possession again. They’re hers. She’s celebrating her birthday for the first time in four years.

She takes a deep breath, straightens her shoulders, and steps into the den. The other two are waiting. Deokhui is wearing one of her favorite 3X3 SOUL t-shirts (she’s still dying to tell Gaeun about the music video shoot they did but she also is waiting till the band’s comeback so she can post her behind-the-scenes documentary on her fansite and make all the other super-fans die from jealousy) and a pair of shorts. Gaeun looks very stylish in a fuzzy top and pink corduroy skirt. 

Deokhui gathers them in close for a selfie, and then she hustles them out the door.

“Come on, we don’t want to be late!”

“Late for what?” Aya asks.

Gaeun grins. “It’s a surprise.”

They run to catch the bus to the big park in the next town over. It’s a beautiful day, and the park is massive, sprawling green lawns, cobblestone pedestrian paths, big trees, and beautiful flowers. The park is busy but not too crowded. There are food trucks, food carts, and a pretty central fountain where a big group of teenagers is gathered.

Gaeun checks her watch. “We made it!”

“Made what?” Aya thinks she maybe recognizes a couple of kids in the crowd, but she’s pretty sure most of them don’t even go to her high school. Did Deokhui just invite everyone in her grade to some kind of weird surprise birthday party? Before Aya can ask further questions, loud music starts up.

Aya recognizes the song - it’s a popular girl group song. 

Immediately half a dozen kids clear a space and begin to dance along. Gaeun runs to join them.

“Come on,” she calls to Aya.

Aya does know this dance - it was one of the ones Gaeun recommended to her months ago, after their night out at the noraebang. Aya loves to dance. And she’s heard of these before, the random play dance challenges. Someone puts popular songs on shuffle over a massive speaker, and anyone who knows the song can dance along.

So Aya throws herself onto the impromptu dancefloor beside Gaeun and dances.

Deokhui cheers from the sidelines, filming on her camera, but when she knows a song she joins in too.

Aya always liked dancing in PE, had enjoyed dancing with the other girls at the noraebang, but in a big group like this, smiling at the strangers around her, this is _ fun _ in a way she doesn’t remember. She’d never have been this brave back in Japan.

She’s not in Japan anymore. She’s not that girl anymore. She’s not just Ran-niichan’s precious little sister. She’s the girl who runs her own flower shop, who works hard in school, and will dance in the park with strangers. 

After the final dance, Aya is breathless but not tired. She spots Guhui on the sidelines with Kangmin and Jihoon. Kangmin has Deokhui’s camera and has been filming the dancing. 

Guhui pulls Aya into a hug. “Happy birthday! You looked so good out there!”

“Thank you!” Aya hugs her back, pleased to see her.

“That was so much fun,” Gaeun says. She also hugs Aya. “You dance so well!”

Kangmin presses a kiss to Deokhui’s cheek. “You danced well.”

She blushes but looks pleased. “Thank you.” Then she tugs on Aya’s wrist. “Come on. It’s not over.”

“What’s next?” Aya asks. 

What’s next is riding bicycles around the park, and playing on the swings on the playground, and buying all kinds of food from the street vendors. 

Instead of eating as they go, they carry everything over to the grass where several picnic blankets are waiting. 

“Did you set this up?” Aya asks Jihoon and Kangmin, but they both look surprised. 

Someone starts to sing, _ Happy birthday to you! _

Aya turns, and there’s Jinjoo, a man who must her darling Seungmin-oppa, and the cutest little boy carrying a birthday cake. It has so many candles on it. All three of them are singing, and Deokhui and the others join in.

The little boy - Gunwoo, Jinjoo’s precious son - holds up the cake to Aya.

“Happy birthday, Noona! Make a wish!”

Aya leans down and blows out the candles all in one breath. The others clap and cheer, and then everyone settles on the blankets while Jinjoo cuts the cake.

Deokhui peers at it. “Unni,” she says to Jinjoo, “how many candles did you get?”

Kangmin peers as well. “There’s a few too many of them.”

Jihoon shrugs. “Aya’s of legal age because she lives on her own, right? So if she’s one year older now -”

Kangmin stares at her. “You’re twenty-one this year?”

Aya nods.

“But...you’re still in high school.”

Aya doesn’t like the way he’s staring at her, but there’s so much she hasn’t told her friends, and she’s tired of not telling them things. There are some things she can never tell them, like what her brother used to do for a living - what he might still be doing for a living - but this is her life now. She can’t live it if it’s mostly a lie.

“I didn’t finish high school in Japan,” she says. “The night my parents died, I was in a car accident, and I was in a coma for three years. It took me a long time to heal after I woke up, so I still need to finish high school.”

Kangmin’s eyes light up. “You - you’re of _ legal age. _ That means you can drive and go to clubs and -”

“I’m not buying you beer,” Aya says at the same time as Jinjoo says, “She’s not buying any of you beer.”

Deokhui swats Kangmin on the arm, and he looks sheepish.

Gaeun clears her throat. “I believe it’s time for presents.”

Gunwoo has been distributing pieces of cake, oblivious to the awkward moment that passed between Aya and her friends.

“This cake is delicious,” Jihoon says to Jinjoo.

“Open mine first.” Deokhui reaches into her backpack and hands Aya a brightly-wrapped package. 

Aya unties the bow and unwraps it carefully, but Gunwoo says, “Noona, you’re supposed to tear it.”

Jinjoo shushes him gently. “It’s her birthday. She can open it how she wants.”

Deokhui has bought Aya a cute little instant camera, so she can take pictures and have them right away. Aya immediately asks everyone for a group picture, and then some passersby to take a picture of her with them, and she shakes them and watches them develop, pleased.

Gaeun got her a cute new purse, and Guhui got her a pretty notebook. Jinjoo got her a fancy grown-up wallet. Aya thanks them all for the gifts, and then they dive into the food, laughing and sharing. Gunwoo stays close to Aya, and she shares a lot of her food with him. 

After the meal, there’s still more fun to be had.

“There’s a pretty carousel on the other side of the park,” Deokhui says. It was the one ride they didn’t manage to get to at the theme park when they went a while back. “Let’s go! The rides are super cheap. I’m buying.”

Gunwoo frowns. “What’s a carousel?”

“A merry-go-round,” Aya says.

Gunwoo lights up, jumps to his feet. “Noona, let’s go ride the merry-go-round!”

Jinjoo says, “No, baby, just the big kids,” but Gunwoo offers his hand to Aya and beams, and she can’t say no. 

“It’s fine,” she says to Jinjoo as she stands. “I’ll look after him, I promise.”

Seungmin hands Aya some money so she can pay for Gunwoo to ride. 

Gaeun giggles and ruffles his hair. “You’re so cute. I always wanted a little brother.”

Aya thinks, _ I miss my big brother. _

She’s hyperaware of Gunwoo’s little hand in hers. He’s trusting her to keep him safe as they cross the park. He’s distracted by all the sights and sounds. Deokhui and Gahui are planning which animals they want to ride. As Aya is the birthday girl, she gets first dibs on the unicorn if she wants it. 

Gunwoo wants to ride with Aya. When they get to the carousel, Deokhui pays for all their rides except Gunwoo, which Aya covers from the money Seungmin gave her, and they stand in the line and watch it turn, watch the people and animals go by. 

Kangmin wants to ride on the dragon. Jihoon agrees to share the swan with Guhui. 

Aya wants to ride the phoenix. 

At the front of the line, the ride operator is a girl about Aya’s age, probably a college student. 

She leans down and coos at Gunwoo. 

“Your little brother is so cute,” she says to Aya. 

Aya goes to correct her, but then Gunwoo says, “Noona, the phoenix is there. You have to help me up.”

The other girl smiles at Aya and waves her through, so Aya helps Gunwoo onto the carousel platform and leads him to the phoenix. She lifts him onto it first, then climbs on after him, careful not to let him fall. 

She wonders if this is how Ran felt, looking after her, protective and scared all at once. 

She wonders how far she would go for this adorable little boy who calls her Noona like she really is his big sister. 

Would she kill for him?

She’s not sure. 

Would she use her magic for him? 

In a heartbeat. 

Deokhui and the others find their mounts, and then the music starts. 

“Hold on,” Aya warns. 

Gunwoo smiles at her. “I know you’ve got me, Noona.”

They’ve gone around the merry-go-round a few times when Gunwoo bounces in the saddle and says, 

“Noona, take our picture!”

So Aya gets out her new birthday camera and takes a picture of the two of them. Gunwoo claps and cheers. Aya watches him enjoying the music and the lights, then looks out at the world spinning past. 

The world spun past her for three years like she wasn’t in it, like she didn’t matter. 

But now, after the music stops, she can step back into the world and spin with it. She smiles to herself. 

Gunwoo looks up and smiles too and shouts, “Happy Birthday!”

Aya hugs him and knows, for the first time in a long time, it really is. After the party she’ll go home and perform the rituals to remember her parents, but today is her birthday, and her parents would want her to have fun with her friends and be happy. 

So she will. 

_X. Starry Sky_

Aya is locking up the shop at the end of a long day - a rush order on some rainbow roses - when there’s a knock on the door. She hasn’t pulled down the grate yet, but she has flipped the sign to _closed._

“Just a moment,” she says, and she reaches for the little taser that Momoe-san gave her as a going-away present.

She goes to the door, cracks it open.

The figure on the other side of the door is hunched, wearing a hoodie and a baseball cap. 

“I’m sorry, we’re closed now,” Aya says, clutching the taser.

The figure - a boy in shorts and sneakers - pulls back his hood, but the cap still shadows his face. Aya tenses when he unzips his hoodie and reaches inside.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to return this,” he says, and holds out a piece of folded fabric.

It takes Aya a moment before she realizes it’s one of The Flower Box aprons. When had anyone borrowed one?

And then she remembers. The music video shoot. Someone borrowed Jinjoo’s apron. Not just someone - one of the boys in the band. 

Myeongjun. The one who was coughing up flowers, stricken by unrequited love.

“Thank you,” Aya says.

Myeongjun ducks his chin, coughs into his shoulder.

Aya opens the door wider, alarmed. “Are you still sick?”

Myeongjun nods, holds the apron out to her. She accepts it, pulls the door open wider.

“Please, come in. Do you want some tea?”

“I can’t stay long,” he says. “If the manager knows I left the dorms, I’ll be in trouble. But you said you can help me?”

Aya nods, clutches the apron tightly. “Yes. If you get the operation, bring me the main root of the plant and a picture of the person you love.”

Myeongjun nods. “I won’t be able to come during the day.”

“Come when you can,” Aya says, because this service isn’t one she sells; it goes beyond regular business and regular business hours. “Thank you for returning the apron. I hope the surgery goes well.”

Myeongjun bows. “Thank you. For everything.” Then he pulls his hood back up and vanishes into the darkness.

Aya watches him go long after she cannot see him, and then she finishes closing up the shop.

It’s a late night several weeks later, and Aya is sitting on the wall beside the nursery, gazing up at the starry sky when someone calls out to her.

“Miss?”

Aya turns. “Hello?”

Four figures materialize out of the darkness, and for a moment Aya can’t breathe. She stands. “Ran-niichan?”

There’s a moment of hesitation, and then one of the figures says, in hesitant Japanese, “Do you speak Korean?”

Aya’s heart sinks. It’s not her brother or any of his teammates. Why would they be here? Omi is no longer Omi, is Mamoru Takatori, is no longer part of a team, is the one who decides where the teams go and what they do. She’s pretty sure none of Ran’s old teammates speak Korean anyway.

“Yes,” she says in Korean, and now she’s a little nervous. “Can I help you?”

One of the figures steps forward, and it’s a boy. He flips back his hood, and under the starlight his hair is so pale it’s almost white. Except it’s pink.

After a moment Aya recognizes him. Deokhui’s beloved Yijeong-oppa.

Aya bows and says, cautiously, “So Yijeong-ssi.”

He flips his hood back up. “Myeongjun-hyung asked us to come see you. We brought some things for you.” 

One of the other boys steps forward. His face is half-shadowed by his hood. He holds out a small flower pot full of dark, loamy soil. A single desolate-looking blossom is planted upright in it, but the petals are crushed and the stem is withered. Aya will have to dig it out and check the roots.

“I’ll take care of it,” Aya promises, already feeling light and warmth tingle in her fingertips, her magic rising.

“Thank you,” the boy says. He hesitates, then holds out something else. “Also you asked for this.”

It’s a photograph. It takes Aya a moment to recognize the boy in the photo as Jinwoo, because he has ordinary dark hair, is wearing a school uniform, no makeup. It’s not at all like most of the glamour shots and filtered selfies and photocards Deokhui has shown her. Myeongjun has known Jinwoo for a long time.

Aya eyes the boys. She assumes Myeongjun isn’t among them, is still recovering in the hospital. She also assumes that Jinwoo isn’t among them either. Aya accepts the photograph as well.

“Yes,” she says. “Tell Myeongjun-ssi I hope he recovers well.”

“Can you really help him?” the tallest figure asks.

The tallest is the youngest, Aya remembers.

Aya nods. “I can’t explain it, but then there’s a lot that can’t be explained, isn’t there?” She hefts the flower pot.

“Please,” one of the other boys says, and he has a wobble in his voice. “Please help him.”

“I will,” Aya says, because though the plant is withered, it’s not dead. She says, “You probably have to get back to the dorm before your manager notices you’re gone, right?”

The four of them exchange looks, nod.

“Travel safely,” Aya says. “I’d better go take care of this right away.” She turns to go.

All four boys shift nervously, and Aya pauses.

“Do you want payment?” one of them asks finally.

Aya says, “Not money.”

“Then what?”

“If you hear of others who get sick like your friend, tell them to come to me. Because I can help.”

“How?” the boy presses.

Aya holds up the flowerpot and closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, feels light fill her. This late at night, it feels like starlight. When she opens her eyes, the pretty yellow rose has perked up, looks like a fresh blossom.

She hears several sharp in-drawn breaths.

“How…?”

Aya shrugs and smiles. “Like I said, I can’t explain it.”

The four of them nod.

“Thank you,” one of them says. Aya thinks it’s Kyungseok, but she still can’t see their faces clearly.

It’s Yijeong who says, “I hope you aren’t paying too high a price for what you can do.” Then he nods to the others, and they draw back into the shadows.

Aya doesn’t know if she is paying a price. It’s been five years since a hit-and-run turned her life upside down, and she still looks sixteen.

She heads into the nursery to work on the yellow rose. As she laminates the photo of Jinwoo, she considers her shrine to other people’s love, and she thinks maybe it’s time to expand her garden.

It’s yet another starry night, weeks and weeks later, when she’s sitting on the wall beside the nursery gazing at the sky and wondering where her brother is, if he’s all right, that a hooded figure approaches her.

“Are you Fujimiya Aya, who works at The Flower Box?” a girl asks.

Aya nods. “Yes. The shop opens again tomorrow at ten.”

“Ah, I’m not looking to buy flowers,” the girl says. She has her hands jammed into the pockets of her hoodie. Her shoulders are tense. “One of my trainee friends said you could help me.”

It takes Aya a moment to understand what she means by trainee, and then she remembers Yijeong and his pale pink hair. “I can. Do you have some time, or do you need to get back to the dorms fast?”

“I have a little bit of time,” the girl says. She adds, “My name is Yeoreum.”

After that, Aya gets text messages from strangers every now and again, and she always arranges to meet them under the starry sky. Not all of them are celebrities, but all of them have something to give up. 

Sometimes in the evening after the shop is closed, Aya sits on the wall next to the nursery and looks at the stars and waits for the day someone comes to her who has something to claim. 

_XI. All Light_

“What are you doing?” Jinjoo swats Aya’s hands away from the bouquet she’s arranging on one of the worktables.

“It’s graduation season,” Aya says. “I’m making a graduation bouquet.”

Jinjoo narrows her eyes. “You’re making your own graduation bouquet.”

“I know exactly what I want for the pictures,” Aya says.

“And we’ve been partners long enough that I know your taste,” Jinjoo retorts. “Let me finish this.”

“I’m a perfectly capable florist -”

“Aya, you’re graduating from university. It’s a huge accomplishment. You know Seungmin-oppa and Gunwoo and I will be on the first row cheering for you.” Jinjoo knows Aya has no biological family of her own to come to her graduation. Jinjoo’s family is Aya’s family, as are Deokhui and Gaeun.

“I appreciate it,” Aya says, but she’s not nearly as excited about graduation as her friends and classmates are. Not much is going to change for her after graduation. She’ll work more hours in the shop because she’s done with classes, but with all the changes and expansions she and Jinjoo have made over the years, The Flower Box takes up most of her life.

“You can’t make your own graduation bouquet,” Jinjoo says firmly. “Your family is supposed to buy one for you. It’s meant to be a surprise.”

Aya raises her hands in surrender. She knows better than to argue with Jinjoo. “All right. You can finish making it. I have about a hundred others of these to make anyway.” She moves further down the worktable with the order book, flips through it to the next order.

Before she can get started on the bouquet, the bell over the door rings. Aya lifts her head and smiles.

“Welcome to The Flower Box.”

The customer is a young man. He has military-short hair, has probably just finished his service. Aya wonders how Ran and his teammates got away with having long hair like they did, especially Yohji. 

The man studies the menu above the cafe counter. Jinjoo always wanted to run a cafe. Of course they sell coffee, but their specialty is flower teas, which Gaeun is best at brewing. They also sell candied flowers, which Jinjoo is best at, maybe because she has been cooking the longest. Aya is best at repairing flowers, and her services as The Flower Doctor helped the shop stand out before Jinjoo invested in the shop to expand it to include a cafe. These days Deokhui is the best at designing flower dye concepts, even if Aya is best at the actual execution. After their work on the 3X3 SOUL music video several years ago, Deokhui uploaded her behind-the-scenes documentary and introduced the concept of the image flower, one for each member. Other fans flocked to buy the flowers, and more than one idol group has had Deokhui design image flowers for their members for special occasions like comebacks, and now The Flower Box is in downtown Seoul, conveniently close to the universities Deokhui, Gaeun, and Aya have been attending.

Finally the man steps up to the counter, reaching into his pocket for his wallet. “I’d like a medium chrysanthemum honey tea, please,” he says.

Aya nods and moves to start hot water brewing. “Of course.” She grabs a teapot, matching mug, and a pen. “Name?”

“Jinwoo,” he says.

She tells him the price, and he hands over his card. There are a couple of tables by the front window so customers can enjoy the street view while they eat or drink, but he doesn’t head toward them. Aya hands his card back, then writes his name on a little card to put on the tea tray though he’s the only one in there. There’s about half an hour before the after school rush hits. Gaeun and Deokhui will be here any moment.

While Aya reaches for several jars of dried petals to weigh and mix the tea blend, she can feel the customer watching her.

Finally, he says, “Is Miss Fujimiya Aya around? I was hoping to speak to her.”

Aya finishes blending the tea and puts it into a strainer, which she puts into a teapot. “I’m Fujimiya Aya. Is there something I can help you with?” She smiles.

He comes closer to the counter, lowers his voice. “Dr. Park Jisang told me to come see you.”

Dr. Park has sent plenty of his patients Aya’s way, but few come into the shop during regular business hours, prefer to meet Aya privately. “Ah, yes. We can speak privately while your tea steeps if you like.”

The electric kettle has finished, and Aya pours hot water into the teapot, fetches a matching teacup. She places both on a tray and steps around the counter, carries it over to one of the tables and sits.

Jinwoo sits opposite her. “I’m still in the early stages,” he says quietly. “It’s just petals. But I want to be prepared.”

Aya nods. “Of course. Would you like to look through the greenhouse? Before you undergo surgery.”

“Greenhouse?” Jinwoo looks puzzled.

Aya says, “To see if the person you love maybe once loved you.” That is perhaps one of the great tragedies of Hanahaki Disease, how many loves might have been reciprocated had one person been brave, or had another person learned to see a friend in a new light just a bit sooner.

Jinwoo blinks. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

“I offer it to everyone. After all, you’re facing invasive surgery. It’s one of the reasons Dr. Park tells you to come see me.” Aya shrugs.

Jinwoo says, “I’m pretty sure the person I love has never loved me like I love him.”

“It doesn’t hurt to look,” Aya says. “Sometimes people just need some time to catch up to each other.”

Aya will never catch up to Deokhui and Gaeun in some ways. She has learned how to style her hair and do her makeup and dress to look her mental age - she is physically three years older than her best friends - but one day she will have to move on, before someone notices something strange. Society’s obsession with youthful beauty will be useful for her for a while, though.

Jinwoo presses a hand to his chest, his expression pained for a moment.

Aya says, “Drink your tea and think about it. Where you caught the disease early, you have time to decide.”

Jinwoo nods. “Thank you.”

Aya bows and excuses herself, returns to making graduation bouquets. Jinjoo already finished Aya’s and is on to the next one. Aya will have a chance to be surprised after all.

Aya has finished one bouquet by the time Deokhui and Gaeun arrive, laughing and smiling.

They look at the worktable where Aya and Jinjoo are elbow-to-elbow, then peer into the cooler that is already full of bouquets.

Deokhui says to Gaeun, “I’ll make yours if you make mine.”

Gaeun nods. “Deal.”

“See?” Jinjoo says to Aya.

“See what?” Deokhui asks.

Gaeun pulls on her apron. “Aya tried to make her own.”

“I know what I like,” Aya protests, but she is filled with warmth anyway at Jinjoo’s concern for her.

“Excuse me, where do I return the teapot?” 

Aya turns. Jinwoo hovers beside the cafe counter. Aya heads over to him, accepts the tray and carries it over to the sink.

Jinwoo clears his throat, and Aya goes back to him.

“I’d like to see the greenhouse. Please.”

Aya nods. “Do you have time right now, or would you like to come back later? After hours, even.”

“I have time now,” Jinwoo says, though he looks nervous.

Jinjoo, Deokhui, and Gaeun know Aya’s Flower Doctor skills are in demand for sometimes strange purposes, but they don’t ask questions, since her Flower Doctor skills helped the shop earn enough money to move to Seoul and acquire a second greenhouse, one where she keeps certain flowers that Dr. Park uses for his research.

Aya says, “I’m going to take someone to Greenhouse Two. Back in a bit.”

The other three eye Jinwoo curiously. Jinjoo and Gaeun nod, go back to their work, but Deokhui’s eyes go wide. She recognizes him. She claps a hand over her mouth.

Jinwoo spots her, and he reflexively tugs up the hood on his hoodie. The gesture is familiar.

Aya catches Deokhui’s eye and shakes her head. Deokhui nods and clamps her other hand over her mouth so she doesn’t make a sound, but her eyes are still very wide.

Jinwoo ducks his head gratefully, and Aya hustles him out through the back, up the stairs to the rooftop where both greenhouses are. 

There are only a few people who can elicit that kind of reaction from Deokhui, and Aya - and Gaeun and Jinjoo - know all about them. Aya recognizes Jinwoo now. She knows where to go. She leads him through rows and rows of planters full of different kinds of flowers, every shade under the sun. The magic of the disease allows for some flowers in otherwise impossible colors. This greenhouse is Aya’s favorite place in all the world.

The original flower shrine with six flower pots is now down in the main shop. Aya will keep those plants alive till her dying breath - if she ever has one - but this greenhouse she will protect with all her might.

Aya kneels beside a small bush of yellow roses and pushes the lower blossoms aside so Jinwoo can see the plant label she has staked in the planter. There are no names on them, just pictures.

Jinwoo stares at the picture of himself in disbelief. “How…? That’s an old high school picture of me. Who…? Are you allowed to tell me?”

Aya says, “I keep a record of everyone who has ever brought or sent me a plant.” The information is on the back of the photo or label, just in case. “I only show someone who brought me a plant if they find their own picture.”

Jinwoo bites is lip. “It’s probably not him.” He looks at her. “It’s not even a him, is it?”

Aya slides the laminated photo off the label stake and flips it over, holds it out.

Jinwoo stares at the back of the photo for a long moment. Then he reaches into his pocket for his cellphone, dials. “Hyung? Hey, are you busy? Can we meet up? As soon as possible. We can get food. I’ll buy.”

Aya puts the photo back on the label stake and stands up.

Jinwoo’s eyes are bright. He finishes his call. His hands are shaking. “I have to go. I’ll get back to you.”

Aya says, “Good luck.” 

He dashes for the door and down the stairs.

Aya heads back into the shop.

“Was that really him? Jinwoo-oppa?” Deokhui asks.

Aya stands beside her at the worktable, flips through the workbook to the next order. “It was.”

“Did he find what he was looking for in the greenhouse?” Gaeun asks.

“We’ll find out, I suppose.” 

Before Deokhui can press further, the bells above the door chime, and the after-school rush begins, a gaggle of teenage girls who want to see the two cute part-timers who work on Wednesdays. 

Aya, Deokhui, and Gaeun push through the after-school rush, which has barely faded before the after-work rush begins, and then there’s the after-dinner rush, and the after-hagwon rush, and it’s a wonder any of them managed to graduate from university at all with how busy the shop can be, even though they have a crew of part-timers as well.

It’s almost closing time and the two part-timers are manning the counters while Aya, Jinjoo, Gaeun, and Deokhui scramble to finish graduation bouquets.

It’s Gunwoo who pokes his head into the back and says, “Aya-noona, a customer is looking for you.”

Aya says, “I’ll be right there.” She finishes tying the ribbon on the bouquet, sets it on a stand, and places it carefully in one of the storage coolers. Then she washes her hands, is drying them on her apron as she steps out front.

Jinwoo is hovering by the cafe counter. Another young man is beside him, looking equally anxious.

“Do you remember me?” he asks.

Even if Aya never loved 3X3 SOUL like Deokhui does, she still knows a lot about them. It’s a hazard of being Deokhui’s friend. When she fangirls, she fangirls hard. “Myeongjun-ssi. It’s good to see you again.”

“Is there a way to get my - my flowers back?” 

Aya feels light fill her limbs. “The preparations take some time. If you come back tomorrow, I’ll have what you need.”

“How much?” Jinwoo asks, but Myeongjun puts a hand on his arm, shakes his head.

Aya says, “Come back tomorrow.”

“What time does the shop open?” Jinwoo asks.

“Eight,” Aya says. “I’ll have what you need then.” She has no doubt they’ll be on the doorstep right at eight, if not before.

“Thank you,” Jinwoo says. To Myeongjun he says, “Hyung, let’s go.”

“Let’s,” Myeongjun says faintly, looking a little dazed, and he lets Jinwoo drag him out of the shop.

Aya watches them go, still feeling warm and full of light. She bids farewell to Jinjoo, who is leaving with Gunwoo to go meet Seungmin for dinner. Gaeun and Deokhui are finishing up the bouquet orders for the day while Jaemin and Sihoon, the part-timers, close up the shop at the front.

Aya heads up to Greenhouse Two with a bowl to harvest some yellow rose petals. Candying rose petals is easy, takes about half an hour, but she has to let them sit overnight, and she puts some of her magic into them as well, to keep them fragrant and fresh. In the off-chance that she won’t be helping open the shop tomorrow - being owner has its perks - she will leave a note for Mari and Ahra, the part-timers who are supposed to open, about a special order of candied rose petals for Jinwoo and Myeongjun. Ahra will make sure they’re boxed up pretty.

Long after everyone else has left, Aya is sitting in the small managerial office she shares with Jinjoo, counting the till for the day and updating the books. She peeks into the small candy kitchen before she leaves for the night. The rose petals look like they’re coming along nicely. She’s tempted to eat one, but she knows better, so she sneaks an already-candied petal out of one of the candy jars before she shrugs on a light jacket and goes to lock up for the night.

Even though it’s late, the street is still fairly bright, but Aya avoids the shadows. She knows better than to walk with her head down as she heads for the bus stop. She also knows to look up and back and check her reflection in shop windows she passes to check for anyone following her. She cannot shake the sense that someone is watching her.

She sits at the bus stop and puts in her earbuds but doesn’t turn any music on, pretends she’s distracted, and keeps an eye on her surroundings.

When her bus finally arrives, she climbs on, settles into a seat beside the window. 

As the bus pulls away, she thinks she sees someone familiar across the street, someone with bright red hair.

She knows it’s highly improbable that the red-headed person she saw is someone she knows. People dye their hair all kinds of interesting colors these days.

By the time she gets home, she’s exhausted. She cleaned out her locker at school, she worked hard in the shop, and she used a lot of magic. She brushes her teeth and washes her face and collapses into bed. Tired as she is, she falls asleep feeling like her veins are full of starlight.

Aya awakes early the next day, feeling bright and full of energy, so she showers and dresses and has breakfast and heads downtown to open the shop. Mari and Ahra arrive soon after her.

At eight on the dot, Aya flips the sign on the door from _ closed _ to _ open _ and unlocks it, pushes up the gate.

Nearly a dozen people spill into the shop. Most of them are there to pick up graduation bouquets, and they head straight for the flower counter. Two people head straight for Aya. Myeongjun and Jinwoo look like they’ve barely slept.

Aya hands them the pretty pale yellow box that Ahra made up specially, tied with a bright yellow bow.

“Your special order of candied rose petals,” she says.

“How much?” Jinwoo asks.

Aya smiles. “On the house.”

“I couldn’t possibly -” Jinwoo begins.

Myeongjun tears into the box and shoves a flower petal into his mouth. He barely chews before he swallows it, and then he presses a hand to his sternum.

Aya is alarmed. “Do you need water?”

Myeongjun eats another petal. “These - they actually taste good.” He eats another, and another. 

“Slow down,” Jinwoo says.

Myeongjun shakes his head and keeps on eating.

Jinwoo puts a hand on his shoulder. “Really, you’re going to make yourself choke -”

Myeongjun swallows another petal.

Aya feels her magic tingle faintly in her fingertips.

Myeongjun closes his eyes and sucks in a shaking breath. Then he opens his eyes, and they’re shining with unshed tears. He clutches the box tightly and says to Jinwoo, “Let’s go.” To Aya, he says, “Thank you.”

Aya’s entire chest fills with light. She smiles and says, “Go.”

Myeongjun drags Jinwoo out of the shop, Jinwoo still protesting about payment.

“Well,” a familiar voice says - in Japanese. “I thought he was going to eat the entire box right here.”

Aya looks up. Schuldig is leaning on the cafe counter, hands in his pockets. His bright orange-red hair is pulled back in a ponytail. 

“That was you,” Aya says. “Last night at the bus stop.”

“You’re a surprisingly hard woman to find.” Schuldig sighs. “So many countries and places have populations that speak all of the languages I gave you. I should have started with Korean. It’s the least-versatile language on the list.”

“What brings you here?”

Schuldig says, “I’m here on a job. I hear your shop is the place where people come, when they’re looking for lost loved ones.”

None of the other members of Schwarz have come to Aya for help. “I didn’t think you loved your teammates,” she says. She isn’t sure she’d have helped his teammates - if they were even capable of needing the type of help she could give.

Schuldig rolls his eyes. “I said I’m here on a job. This isn’t for me. I have a client who wants to see Greenhouse Two.”

Even though Schuldig is a telepath and other people’s privacy is nonexistent to him, Aya says, “I’ll take your client up there, but just your client. Not you.”

Schuldig looks her up and down. “Who knows what you’re capable of.”

Aya says, deadpan, “I run a flower shop. How could I be dangerous?”

Schuldig smirks. “How did I not see how funny you are?”

“Because,” Aya says, “thanks to your former masters, you cannot see me the way you see others.”

Schuldig’s smirk dims for a moment, and he looks away. Then his gaze goes blank, and Aya realizes - he’s speaking to someone mind-to-mind.

A moment later, the door opens and a woman sweeps into the shop. “You know I hate it when you do that,” she hisses to Schuldig - in Japanese.

He just shrugs and smirks again, as if Aya hadn’t discomfited him not ten seconds before. The woman tosses her head, but then she bows to Aya and speaks in careful Korean.

“Hello. My name is Tomoe Sakura. Thank you for agreeing to see me.” She straightens up, and Aya is shocked.

Sakura. The girl who looks just like her - doesn’t look like her anymore. Because she’s grown up. How is she Schuldig’s client? But then Aya remembers the last conversation she had with Schuldig. _ You owe me. _ He owes Sakura, too. 

Only Aya would remember if she had a plant from someone she knew before. 

“I sent my plant several years ago,” Sakura says. “I would like to see it again. See if it’s worth keeping alive.”

Most people don’t deliver their plants in person, so Aya doesn’t always know the face of someone she helps, but -

But Sakura doesn’t recognize Aya, she realizes. Because she wears her hair short like Jinjoo and dresses differently. Korean women don’t dress like Japanese women, even if their fashion sometimes crosses over.

“Of course,” Aya says, bowing back. She says, “If you follow me, I’ll take you to the greenhouse.” She speaks in slow and careful Korean, can’t bring herself to speak Japanese in case Sakura recognizes her. Aya thinks she knows which plant Sakura sent to her, because besides the orchids in the shrine in the shop, there is only one orchid plant in Greenhouse Two.

Sakura is quiet as they ascend the stairs. She follows Aya across the roof. Aya opens the door to the greenhouse for her, gestures for her to go first. Sakura pauses on the threshold, scans the rows and rows of planters. She spots her plant immediately, dark red orchids. She heads to it. It’s one of the few that doesn’t have a picture on it. She kneels and looks at it, reaches out to touch it.

“Is it worth keeping alive?” she asks Aya. “If I know he’s never going to love me back.”

“It depends,” Aya says. “On how advanced your disease was before you had the flowers removed. Killing the plant may destroy all your memories of him, or your entire ability to love romantically.”

Sakura’s eyes go wide, and she snatches her hand back. “Oh.” Then she straightens up. “Is there a chance he loved me back?”

Aya would have remembered if a plant with Sakura’s picture came in. Maybe. She looks so different now. Though Aya doubts Ran has seen Sakura since Aya woke from her coma. If Ran has seen Sakura but not Aya - 

She swallows hard, pastes on a patient smile. “If you want to look for your picture among the plants, you may. Not everyone sends a picture, of course. I also don’t remember every picture in here.”

“Thank you. I won’t take too much time.” Sakura heads down the rows of planters. Of course, she checks every cherry blossom plant, is amazed that they can come in colors besides pink. Usually they can’t, but most people understand that in Greenhouse Two, flowers are different. After that, Sakura checks all the roses. Then she checks all the deep red flowers. She doesn’t find what she’s looking for.

Aya watches her and wonders how anyone thought they were alike. Sakura moves differently from her, carries herself differently. They’re two different people.

Finally, Sakura rejoins Aya at the door. “Thank you for your time.”

“You’re welcome.” Aya leads her back down to the first floor.

Sakura heads straight to Schuldig. “Let’s go,” she says in Japanese.

He arches an eyebrow, glances at the shrine behind the cafe counter. “Sure you don’t want to look around a little bit?”

Sakura nods firmly. Schuldig tosses a little smirk in Aya’s direction, and then he opens the door of the shop, gestures for Sakura to precede him.

“Thank you for coming,” Aya says in Korean, because she’s nothing if not a polite shop owner, but then she adds, in German, “but don’t ever come again.”

Schuldig looks shocked for a moment, because German wasn’t one of the languages he gave her, but then he laughs and follows Sakura out of the shop. The door closes behind them, and Aya wilts in relief.

“Yah!” Jinjoo says. “What are you still doing here? You’re supposed to be on campus!”

Aya looks at her watch. “Oh! I have to go! Thank you -”

“Go, go, go!” Jinjoo shoos her toward the door.

Aya shrugs on her jacket, grabs her purse. “The bouquet -”

“Silly. I’ll bring it to you, like family is supposed to.” Jinjoo opens the door and actually pushes her out of it.

Aya, laughing, waves goodbye, and then she runs for the bus stop.

Graduation is joyful. Jinjoo and her family are there cheering for Aya, as promised. So are Mari, Ahra, Jaemin, and Sihoon, though Sihoon looks like he’d rather somewhere else and Ahra looks like she’d prefer to be with him. Jaemin and Mari are beaming, though. The speeches pass in a blur. Aya is breathless, nervous as she crosses the stage to accept her diploma and shake her department chair’s hand. Afterward, it’s Gunwoo who presents Aya with her graduation bouquet. He leans up on his toes and kisses her on the cheek and says, “Congratulations, Aya-noona.” 

Jinjoo looks pleased.

Seungmin claps her on the shoulder, then tells everyone to get close together so he can take some pictures. Jinjoo hugs Aya tightly, and Gunwoo presses close. Then Aya has a picture with Ahra and Mari, and with Jaemin and Sihoon, and then all four of them, and then Aya is staggering under the weight of two more people as Gaeun and Deokhui pounce on her. Seungmin snaps more photos, Gaeun’s mother shakes Aya’s hand, and Deokhui’s mother pulls Aya into a hug, and there are yet more photos, and afterwards all three families go for lunch at a very nice restaurant overlooking the city.

“What are your plans?” Gaeun’s mother asks.

“I’m starting my own candy-making business,” Gaeun says. “It’ll be small at first. Aya will let me use the shop to sell to start. But eventually I’ll have a shop of my own.”

Deokhui says, “I plan on expanding my business marketing products for idol groups.” She still makes plush dolls of beloved idols, and they’re still very popular. 

Sihoon rolls his eyes, but he’s good at sewing and Deokhui gives him a fair share of the profits.

Jinjoo says, “Aya and I will be business partners till I retire, and then it’s all hers.” She winks at Aya. They’ve been business partners from day one.

Aya laughs and hugs her, and they enjoy their meal.

The next day, all hands are on deck for more graduation bouquets, because not all universities hold ceremonies on the same day. Sihoon shamelessly skips school to help out, but no one scolds him. He, like Aya, has no parents, though Mari’s family has taken him in.

By the weekend, all the graduation bouquet orders are finished, and Aya closes the shop early after the last bouquet is delivered, tells everyone to go home and relax. 

This is it. Her future is here. She will run her flower shop, she will help people in love, she will spend time with her family and friends for as long as she can, and she will wonder if she will ever get older.

And she will wonder, occasionally, what else her magic can do. 

**Author's Note:**

> So much gratitude to the fabulous Brumeier for her beta work even though she knows nothing of this fandom. Also she gave me the title, which is from a Theodore Roethke quote.
> 
> So many cookies to anyone who can name the fandoms that Aya's new coworkers and friends come from.
> 
> Section titles from the Astro album All Light (though none of the sections have anything to do with what any of the songs are about).


End file.
